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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25982635">Where Are You, Simon Snow?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsfalling16/pseuds/angelsfalling16'>angelsfalling16</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, References to Depression, SnowBaz, So much angst, The Mage (Simon Snow) is an Asshole, a bit of PTSD from the kidnapping, but similar to the amount in the book, but what's new?, realistic but happy ending</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:36:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>38,524</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25982635</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsfalling16/pseuds/angelsfalling16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon Snow is the worst Chosen One who's ever been chosen.</p><p>Baz has been saying it for years, and that statement is made even more apparent by the fact that Simon hasn't even bothered to show up for eighth year. He may be a complete idiot, but that doesn't mean that Baz wanted him to disappear.</p><p>Faced with an uncertain future, a Visiting from his mother, and the worry of whether Simon may have been fatally injured over the summer, Baz isn't sure how he's going to pass eighth year. It's his last year at Watford, and he can't even enjoy it.</p><p>**</p><p>or, the one where Simon was kidnapped at the beginning of eighth year instead of Baz.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>131</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>187</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Carry On Big Bang 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My fic for COBB 2020! It has been really interesting to work through the question of how Carry On would have been different if it had been Simon who had been kidnapped instead of Baz at the beginning. Essentially, I was rewriting the book, but I wanted it to be more than that, so I ended up changing some of the big events in the book and it was fun to play with those moments to see where I could take them. So, while there are some things that are similar to the book, there are also some things are very different, and I'm excited to see what you all think.</p><p>This fic has been a lot of fun to work on, and I really hope you all enjoy!!</p><p>Thank you so much scone-lover for beta reading!! I truly appreciate all of your help. &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p><p>Having just arrived at Watford for the beginning of the year, I step into the room that Simon and I have shared for the past seven years, but something doesn’t feel right. Actually, looking around, I realise that a lot of things are not right.</p><p>I set my bags down on the foot of my bed and turn to look at the room. Everything looks exactly the same way that it did when we left at the end of last term. The room is devoid of any personal effects, and the windows are tightly shut against the heat of the late summer air.</p><p>Most importantly, as I take a deep breath, there is only the faintest scent of cinnamon and smoke. Usually, that scent would be so strong that I would be choking on it right now. Also, when I cast the spell to reintroduce myself to our room, I didn’t smell the tell-tale scent of blood that usually comes from Simon’s more barbaric way of reintroduction.</p><p>At the time, I thought that it was because Simon decided to actually use his magic, but now, I know that it was something else.</p><p>Simon is not at Watford.</p><p>He’s never been late before. This isn’t like him, and that’s what starts to worry me before there is anything to warrant that concern.</p><p>Simon’s magic may be the most unpredictable thing at this school, but Simon himself is quite predictable. In all his years of trying, he has never managed to catch me off guard. I always knew that he was lurking in the shadows, waiting to catch me doing something that would get me expelled, which is exactly why he never caught me.</p><p>This, though…this is different.</p><p>Simon never would have skipped out on our eighth year. He loves magic. (Even though he’s completely dreadful at it.) It would take a strong force to keep him away. Something like the Humdrum.</p><p>I shake that thought away.</p><p>Simon is probably fine, and I’m probably worrying for nothing. He’s mostly likely just late. He probably wanted to spend a couple of extra days with the Mage doing whatever it is that they do during the summer, running around blowing things up in an attempt to do whatever good deed the Mage has Simon fooled into thinking he’s doing.</p><p>Whatever it is, Simon will be here soon, probably making some grand entrance at the welcome-back picnic and most likely scaring some first years. Maybe some of them will resent him for it rather than worship him the moment they see him just because of some years-old prophecy that people believe to be about Simon. (One can only hope, though.)</p><p>Feeling better about Simon’s temporary absence, I start to unpack my things and change into my new uniform.</p><p>Tomorrow marks the first day of my eighth and final year at Watford School of Magicks. I want to be excited about that fact just like all of my classmates—and for the most part, I am—but my stomach is full of nerves at the thought of school coming to an end in less than a year’s time.</p><p>I’m supposed to have my future figured out by the time I leave here, but how do you know what you want to do for the rest of your life? What if I change my mind? Or realise that I’ve made a mistake?</p><p>I know that I want to go to university, but I still haven’t quite figured out what for.</p><p>I know that my father would love it if I did something related to business, or maybe even farming, but I want to do something more creative that really works my mind. Maybe I even want to become a teacher like my mother was.</p><p>There are so many choices. How do I pick one? How do I even leave the place I’ve lived at for the past seven years?</p><p>This place is where I want to be. It’s where I grew up. It’s the place that allows me to stay close to my mother. How do I just let all of that go? Where else will I find this feeling of being right where I belong?</p><p>When my aunt dropped me off today and I stepped foot onto the lawn, I had this feeling like I was exactly where I am supposed to be. And even though it feels weird without Simon here, there is no place that I would rather be.</p><p>Watford is my home away from home, and there have been too many days when this place felt more like home than my actual home for me to wish to be anywhere else.</p><p>It’s going to be difficult to say goodbye, but for now, I am choosing to be happy about the time that I have left.</p><p>I’m going to enjoy one more year of torturing Snow and reminding him of how inept he is, and then I’ll start to worry about what I plan to do with the rest of my life.</p><p>After I’m dressed in my uniform, I leave the room almost immediately, hoping to escape the eerie, empty feeling of it.</p><p>It’s just after breakfast, so I have all day to wander around Watford.</p><p>Most of the other students are either lounging on the lawn, enjoying their last free day before classes begin, or up in their rooms, reconnecting with their roommates and unpacking. The first years look scared and a little lost with nowhere to go until they find out where and with whom they’ve been placed by the Crucible this evening. I wonder whose life the Crucible will screw up this year, or if I am the only one it has even chosen to torture before by giving me a truly awful roommate.</p><p>Most years, I would be spending this time trying to find the best way to get on Simon’s nerves as my own personal way of welcoming him back. The last time I wasn’t doing that was in fifth year, when I thought that avoiding Simon completely was the best course of action and decided to stay clear of our room. This time, I don’t have much of a choice about whether to pester him or not.</p><p>He didn’t even give me the choice, and for some reason, that gets on my nerves, making my skin itch with the need to have some kind of interaction with him. Even if that just consists of sneering at him to close the window.</p><p>I hate how desperate I am to see him. I hate that he has me wrapped around his finger without even trying. The only good thing is that he has no idea how much power he has over me.</p><p>If he ever found out, I know that he would exploit it, get me to do whatever he wanted. And the sad thing is, I would let him.</p><p>I pretend to be strong, but when it comes to Simon, I’m weak. I would do anything for him, even if that meant going against everything that my family stands for.</p><p>(Like I said, it is a good thing that he doesn’t know about any of this.)</p><p>The familiarity of Watford feels good as it washes over me while I’m walking around the school. The Weeping Tower, the White Chapel, the courtyard, even those damned merwolves. I wander up and down the halls in the Tower, wandering past empty classrooms and meeting rooms, taking it all in before the place is crawling with students.</p><p>It’s hard not to hope to catch a glimpse of bronze curls and blue eyes around every corner.</p><p>We have had many a fight in these halls, and it’s hard not to wonder how many we’ll have left.</p><p>Everything is numbered this year. Days of school left, arguments with Simon left, rats I will drain before I am no longer forced to feed down in the Catacombs, days left until the big fight that will decide mine and Simon’s fate. I’m dreading that last one the most.</p><p>I know I won’t survive the big battle because I would never be able to kill Simon. I wish we could avoid the whole thing altogether, but I know that I won’t have a choice about fighting him. That has all already been decided for me. Just like everything else.</p><p>I want things to be different after this year. I want to start making my own choices. I just hope that I manage to live that long.</p><p>I decide to skip lunch, but I head down to the dining hall in time for tea so that I can meet up with Dev and Niall before the picnic.</p><p>I witness several Visitings as we sit there. I caught sight of a few of those throughout the day, and each time it made me feel hopeful in the way that a child foolishly hopes that someone who has left for good will come back, just to see them.</p><p>I remember hearing tales of this when I was younger, when I still thought it might be just that—a story.</p><p>My aunt loved making sure that I knew everything there was to know about the World of Mages, and I am grateful to her for that. My father tried his best, but there are times that I think he hid things from me in order to try to protect me.</p><p>My aunt cared less about protecting me and more about making sure that I was as informed as possible so that I could one day protect myself.</p><p>After she told me about the Visitings, I started imagining countless scenarios of my mother coming back, just for one day, to tell me that everything was alright.</p><p>When I was little, I just wanted her to tell me that she loved and missed me. As I grew older and discovered more about myself, I imagined her coming back to tell me that she loved and accepted me no matter what, that she didn’t care that I’m gay or a vampire. I needed her to tell me that I was living a life that she would be proud of.</p><p>Now, while it would still be nice to hear those things from her, I know that it isn’t likely that that will happen. If she visits anyone, it will be my father.</p><p>But a part of me still hopes that maybe, just maybe, she will visit me. Maybe she will have something she wants to say to me that is big enough to keep her here.</p><p>As other kids receive Visitings, I start to lose that bit of hope. I know that this is just the beginning, but I don’t like the waiting. Especially when it’s for something that won’t come.</p><p>It’s bad enough that I’m waiting for someone who is supposed to be here already.</p><p>Waiting and hoping for something will only end in disappointment.</p><p>***</p><p>Simon still has not appeared by the time the welcome-back picnic has begun.</p><p>I can see Bunce and Wellbelove sitting together a little way from the bonfire, but Simon is nowhere to be seen. They look tense and quiet, like there is something wrong, and it is obvious that Simon’s absence is bothering them, too.</p><p>At least I’m not the only one being affected by it.</p><p>Dev, Niall, and I find our own place to sit, and I find myself watching the first years.</p><p>Their uniforms have all been perfectly tailored to fit them, but their boater hats fall into their eyes as they run around, talking excitedly and getting to know each other, waiting for the next eight years of their lives to begin.</p><p>By now, they’ve been paired with their new roommates, and you can spot some of the pairs by watching the way that certain people hover closer to each other.</p><p>I remember my own first picnic, the day that I first met Simon.</p><p>I was reluctant to take his hand, and I fought that pull as hard as I could. And even after I resisted him and acted unkindly towards him right from the start, he still followed me like a puppy, hoping to find that connection with his own roommate, the way that everyone else had.</p><p>Unfortunately for him, I was not in the mood for connecting with someone new, and I spent the evening ignoring him the best I could while I wished that things were different.</p><p>If my mother was still around, I would have been able to get my own room. I wouldn’t have been stuck with someone who was barely even a mage.</p><p>It’s not even that I wanted that exactly. What I really wanted was my mother.</p><p>She should have been the one to welcome me to Watford. I should have already known this place inside out from the times I should have spent here while she worked.</p><p>That opportunity was taken from me, though, so rather than being happy to start at Watford, I was dreading it, and I was going to resent whatever roommate I got. The fact that that person turned out to be the Mage’s bloody Heir made it all that much worse, though.</p><p>Not only had the Mage taken over and ruined everything that my mother worked so hard for, there I was, forced to be with the person who he had taken under his wing and given special privileges to. I was expected to play nice, and there was no way that I was going to do that.</p><p>My aunt had already fed me all sorts of information about the two of them and warned me away from Simon Snow, but I know she never expected him to be my roommate.</p><p>Fiona would eventually try to use the fact that Simon was my roommate to her advantage, but that first year, I think she fought just as hard as Simon did to get me a different roommate.</p><p>Of course, the Mage stood firm against the both of them.</p><p>I hesitate to say I’m thankful for that, but if I had gotten a new roommate, I never would have gotten the chance to see that Simon is more than just the Mage’s pawn.</p><p>Simon may not be good at magic—or anything except maybe eating—but he’s a better human being than I will ever be.</p><p>That first year taught me a lot. It taught me that I wasn’t alone and that maybe everything my aunt and father told me wasn’t true. And more importantly, it taught me to think on my own, rather than just blindly following the Families.</p><p>I wonder what this year will bring for the new first years.</p><p>Will any of their lives be drastically changed by their roommates?</p><p>***</p><p>I have been spacey all evening, which is unusual for me, but I got caught up in reminiscing about my years at Watford and in wondering where in the world Simon could be.</p><p>When someone starts up singing the school song, though, I am brought back into the moment, a dull ache going through me at the lyrics.</p><p>It is hard to believe that school is coming to an end, and it is even harder to believe that Simon would willingly miss all of this.</p><p>He has to be around here somewhere. I probably just missed him.</p><p>He will likely be in our room when I get up there to go to bed tonight, and I will feel foolish for worrying about him at all.</p><p>Getting some comfort from that, I am able to enjoy the rest of the evening. The late summer air mixing with the early fall air feels good at it surrounds and caresses me, weaving its fingers through my hair. It makes me forget about Simon for a bit, reminding me that I have a life outside of him.</p><p>One where I enjoy being outside, even though the sun burns me more than most. I love the feel of the wind against my skin, love the feel of the ground under my feet as I race across the pitch, love playing my violin and letting the music in as all of my problems melt away for a time.</p><p>Life has not always been fair or kind to me, but I have done what I can with it, made lemonade with it or whatever. I have made the best of a bad situation (of many situations) and while my life isn’t perfect, I do enjoy it.</p><p>As the celebration starts dwindling down, I bid Dev and Niall a good night before heading towards the Catacombs.</p><p>I need to feed before I go spend the first night in Simon’s presence in a couple of months. It always takes a bit of getting used to, which is why I am glad he never takes that damn cross off. Sometimes, it is the only thing that keeps me from pouncing on him, unsure of whether to bite him or kiss him.</p><p>Something else that takes time to get used to again is the taste of rats after drinking from animals in the woods on my family’s property. Rats are definitely an acquired taste.</p><p>When I return to our room after drinking until I’m full, Simon still isn’t there. There is no sign of him anywhere.</p><p>There is a sinking feeling in my chest as I fill with disappointment. I really thought he would be here, and I am not sure what it means that he isn’t.</p><p>Is he not returning at all?</p><p>I can’t imagine how I will get through this year without him.</p><p>I mean, my grades will probably be even better without him here as a constant distraction, but what will I do in my free time without him there to antagonize?</p><p>I’ve been looking forward to seeing him all summer. I was already struggling to prepare myself to never see him again after the Leaver’s Ceremony, but I thought we had another year. I thought I had more time.</p><p>Without Simon here, it will feel like a part of me is missing. Simon has been such a large part of my life that losing him would be like losing a limb. I will survive it, but it will be painful, and I will never be the same.</p><p>I let myself wallow in this pain for a few minutes before I shake myself and force myself to get ready for bed. It does me no good to sit here and miss him.</p><p>There is still a chance of him returning.</p><p>Classes don’t start until tomorrow, and for all I know, he could be here when I wake up, watching me from across the dining hall to see if I have anything big planned for our last year.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The first week of school passes, and Simon still hasn't returned, so Baz starts to worry.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know I'm a day late with the update, but I started back at work this week, and I was too tired to get this posted last night. I think I might switch to updating on Saturday to give myself some more time and rest before posting.</p><p>I hope you all like this chapter! Thanks scone-lover for beta-reading!! &lt;3</p><p>Also, I realized that I forgot to link to the art for my fic last week, so here is the link to the masterpost on Tumblr with the amazing art done by @kaetor: https://angelsfalling16.tumblr.com/post/627070693768626176/carry-on-big-bang-where-are-you-simon-snow</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p><p>Simon is not at breakfast the next morning. He isn’t in any of our classes either, and when he isn’t at tea or dinner, I begin to wonder if it is time yet to start worrying about him.</p><p>I mean, I’ve already been worrying, but now, it feels like it’s precedented.</p><p>Simon never misses the chance for food in the dining hall, and when he doesn’t show up for either lunch or dinner, I know for sure that he isn’t at Watford—and likely isn’t going to be here any time soon.</p><p>He has never shown up to school late. Sure, he’s shown up looking tattered and worse for the wear, but that’s because apparently wherever the Mage sends him off to during the summer, he is treated as a weapon or a pawn, rather than a person who needs food and sleep.</p><p>You would think that if he were going to claim Simon as his heir and as the prophesied Chosen One, the Mage would make sure that he is well taken care of. Even if he is just using him. A weak weapon is of no use to him. He should want to keep him as strong as possible.</p><p>But maybe the Mage doesn’t care about that. He obviously just wants someone he can use to do his dirty work for him, and he doesn’t care at all for Simon’s well-being.</p><p>It’s a wonder that Simon still does what the Mage asks of him. The way the Mage treats him should make Simon hate him as much as I do, but for some reason, Simon sees him as a hero or something, someone to be revered.</p><p>If that were true, the Mage wouldn’t be working so hard to destroy the Families rather than focusing on the damage that the Humdrum continues to do to our world.</p><p>It’s no use trying to find reason within the Mage’s actions, though. All it does is get me worked up with nowhere to channel my anger. (Especially without Simon here to pick a fight with.)</p><p>Simon’s name gets called in class, and when there’s no response, everyone looks around with varying expressions of surprise and confusion before the teacher moves on to the next name as if Simon’s absence is no big deal.</p><p>This happens in Greek, Political Science, and the other classes that we share.</p><p>I’m the only one who seems concerned by his absence. The most anyone else seems is surprised, as if Simon is a nobody, and for some reason, that starts to get to me until I’m walking around for the rest of the day in a mood.</p><p>I stab my fork into my food at dinner, scowling down at my untouched plate of food and wondering how many plates Simon would have scarfed down by now. We always have roast beef on the first day back, and it’s Simon’s favorite. He would hate to miss out on this, so, where <em>is</em> he?</p><p>When I toss down my fork, abandoning the idea of eating, I find that Dev and Niall have been watching me for a while, and they almost look…<em>concerned.</em></p><p>I know that they are not worried about Simon the way that I am, so it has to be something else.</p><p>“Are you alright, Baz?” Niall asks with an unusual softness to his tone. “You seem a little distant and not yourself.”</p><p>“How do you mean?” I ask.</p><p>“Well, you usually look a little livelier when you return to Watford.” I try not to laugh at that. I am sure that I have never looked ‘lively,’ what with being a vampire and all. “The term just began today,” he continues. “You can’t already be worn down by studying, so…did something happen at home?”</p><p>I hate that my friends know me well enough to notice such a small change in me. I didn’t think that they were all that observant. They usually take more interest in each other than they do in me. I must have been more lost in my thoughts than I thought.</p><p>The question about something going on at home is what really gets me, though, but I decide not to ask him to elaborate.</p><p>“Nothing is going on. I’m fine.”</p><p>The look they exchange with each other tells me that they obviously don’t believe me, but there is no way that I am going to tell them what has got me so lost inside my head today.</p><p>“We can tell when you’re lying,” Dev says.</p><p>“I’m fine,” I repeat, standing up to go before they can push the issue any further. “I’m just tired. I’ll feel better in the morning. See you tomorrow.”</p><p>Maybe Simon will be here in the morning, I’m hoping as I head up to our empty room.</p><p>Though, I’m starting to lose hope that he will return at all.</p><p>***</p><p>I’m not surprised when Simon doesn’t make an appearance the next day. (Though, I won’t say that I’m not disappointed by it.)</p><p>Dev and Niall don’t ask any more questions, but I can tell that they’re still curious. I try not to find myself in any serious conversations with them. I don’t want to have to worry about t how worried I am about Simon spilling out of me because I cannot have them finding out the truth.</p><p>If they knew how much I truly cared for Simon, they would never forgive me for everything that I have put them through. They would never understand that I’m too in love with Simon to act normally around him.</p><p>Just when I think that I am in the clear for the day, I run into Bunce on my way to dinner.</p><p>Rather than letting me pass by her, she blocks my way, placing her hands on her hips in an attempt to look more imposing. She’s got this dangerous glint in her eyes, and I know that it wouldn’t be a smart idea to mess with her right now, but before I can ask her if she needs something, she has already begun spewing an angry rant at me.</p><p>I suppose I never realized just how fierce Penelope Bunce is until this moment. I am pretty sure that she just threatened me in three different ways, and I’m still not sure why she is blocking my path.</p><p>Though, I have my suspicions. First, Dev and Niall, and now Bunce. I used to be great at schooling my emotions, but this whole thing with Simon has thrown me off.</p><p>Even when he isn’t here, he is adversely affecting my life. This is not giving me much hope for a future where he’s out of my life completely. (If we even make it that far.)</p><p>I’ve got several inches on Bunce, but her strong intensity makes up for her lack of height, and I almost take a step back to put some space between us.</p><p>Instead, I put on my signature sneer, one eyebrow raised, arms crossed over my chest in cold indifference, as I say, “What do you want, Bunce?”</p><p>“Simon.”</p><p><em>Don’t we all</em>? I think, then regret it as my cheeks begin to burn. Bunce just continues to glare, oblivious to my internal thoughts.</p><p>“Where is he?”</p><p>“How should I know? <em>You</em> are his best friend.”</p><p>“And <em>you</em> are his terrible roommate. For all I know, you’ve got him hidden away somewhere, using him for your own devices.”</p><p>
  <em>Only in my dreams.</em>
</p><p>Crowley, what is wrong with me?</p><p>“I haven’t seen your precious golden boy since the end of last term,” I say, with as much distaste as I can muster.</p><p>“You mean since we caught you holding hands with his girlfriend in the Wavering Wood.”</p><p>It isn’t a question, and I don’t respond to it. I would only incriminate myself, and Bunce is suspicious enough already.</p><p>“If I find out that you had anything to do with the fact that he is missing, I will make you regret it.” With one last piercing glare, she turns and marches away from me, her cape billowing behind her in the wind that her hurried pace creates.</p><p>There is no doubt in my mind that she is telling the truth about hurting me, but is Snow actually <em>missing?</em></p><p>I mean, I know that he hasn’t shown up at school yet, but up until this point, I was still holding out a tiny bit of hope that he would walk into our room, sword in hand, and continue making my life absolutely miserable.</p><p>But if Bunce is worried about him, maybe he isn’t just taking an extended vacation. Maybe he’s in danger somewhere.</p><p>It seems impossible that Bunce and I would be the only ones who were worried if that were true, though.</p><p>Shouldn’t the entire World of Mages be up in arms over the disappearance of their beloved Chosen One?</p><p>Simon is like the sun, the center of the universe, so you would think people would notice that he just up and disappeared.</p><p>I know that if I were the one to disappear, no one outside of my family would notice if I were gone, but it should be different when it comes to Simon. All of these people pretend to care about him, yet they don’t seem to be the least bit affected by his absence.</p><p>It makes me irrationally angry to see how little everyone seems to care.</p><p>***</p><p>By the end of the week, the teachers have stopped calling Simon’s name. I get an uneasy feeling as I realize that no one is going to even try to do anything. I don’t know how they can do that when the world just doesn’t feel right without Simon here.</p><p>No matter what I’m doing, I can feel his absence, tearing through me like a virus, making me feel weak and out of sorts.</p><p>I’ve even begun to miss his presence at football practice. Somehow without him there to keep an eye on me, I’ve become a less than great player. I keep looking over to the stands to see if Simon is there. (He never even tried to hide the fact that he was watching me.) And more than once, I’ve missed it when one of my teammates attempted to pass me the ball.</p><p>They have all forgiven me so far, but I know it’s only because they would never be able to win any games without me, even though at this point, I’m no good to anyone.</p><p>The realization that no one is going to do anything about the fact that Simon is missing hits me slowly, but then it starts to overwhelm me, making it hard to breathe as I fall into a spiral of endless questioning.</p><p>What if Simon never comes back? What if I never see him again? What if he simply ran away? What if someone took him? What if someone hurt him? What if he was d–? <em>No</em>. I can’t think like that.</p><p>I have to believe that he is okay, that he is out there somewhere.</p><p>Wondering whether he could be hurt somewhere, waiting for someone to find him and rescue him, though, is what gives me the final push I need.</p><p>I’m not delusional. I know he won’t see me as a hero if I somehow find him. He won’t come rushing into my arms, thanking me for saving his life. Which is fine. I don’t care about any of that.</p><p>All I care about is making sure that Simon gets back to where he belongs. At Watford, finishing out his eighth year with the rest of us.</p><p>I don’t know how I’m going to find him, and I have no one to turn to. It’s obvious that Bunce doesn’t know any more about Simon’s whereabouts than I do, which means Wellbelove probably doesn’t either. She doesn’t seem too concerned about her boyfriend being missing either, which is interesting but not something I have the time to think about right now.</p><p>The Mage would be the most likely person to have information about Simon, but I would prefer to stay as far away from him as possible. And it’s not like the Mage is around for me to talk to even if I wanted to.</p><p>Some headmaster he is, never even at Watford.</p><p>I would think that Simon was somewhere with the Mage if I hadn’t been hearing about how the Mage and his men have been raiding the homes of the Families. If the Mage’s Heir had been tagging along with them, that definitely would have been mentioned at some point, so Simon can’t be with him.</p><p>Another thought I had was that the Mage could have sent Simon out with his own personal quest to complete, but that doesn’t seem all that likely either.</p><p>Simon is like an unpredictable bomb, best not to be left unattended.</p><p>Still, from what I can tell, the Mage doesn’t seem to be too concerned about Simon’s disappearance. That, or he knows that Simon is missing and is choosing to keep it a secret while he tries to locate him himself.</p><p>I’m sure that if the Families found out that he lost Simon, there would be all kinds of chaos. They would likely exploit the Mage’s weakness without him and plan some kind of attack.</p><p>I wouldn’t be too mad if they finally succeeded in bringing the Mage to his knees, but they might enlist my help, and I don’t have time for that right now. I need to find Simon and make sure that he is safe.</p><p>Either way, I can’t trust the Mage to find Simon. I have to do something on my own. It’s probably best not to leave Simon’s well being up to the Mage’s incompetency.</p><p>I am going to have to take matters into my own hands and search for Simon myself.</p><p>I don’t know where I’m going to start, but I won’t give up until I find him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading!! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Penny talks to Agatha about Simon's disappearance.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sorry that I didn't post a new chapter last week, but I'm posting two chapters this week, so I hope that makes up for it! I hope you like them :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Penny</strong>
</p>
<p>“I just don’t understand why you aren’t at all worried that Simon is missing.”</p>
<p>It has been over a week since our eighth year at Watford began, and there has still been no sign of Simon. And even though this has me worrying about all of the horrible possibilities of what could have happened to him, Agatha seems to have barely noticed that he’s gone.</p>
<p>Every time that I have tried to bring Simon up to her this week, she has shut me down. Today, though, I’m not letting it go.</p>
<p>I cornered her outside of the dining hall after dinner and I won’t let her pass by me until she talks to me.</p>
<p>I did the same thing to Baz the other day in an attempt to suss out whether he knew anything. From what I could tell, he seemed to be telling the truth, but I know that he’s probably just a really good liar.</p>
<p>If it weren’t illegal, I would have used a truth spell on him. But those spells are testy when used by the best of Mages and are used only in extreme circumstances. (My best friend going missing feels pretty extreme to me, but I would prefer not to get kicked out of school for blatant misuse of magic. My mother would kill me.)</p>
<p>Plus, there is no telling what kinds of truths would have come spilling out of Baz. Knowing his family, he probably has all kinds of dark skeletons in his closet. I think it’s best to just let him keep his secrets. I can find another way to figure out if he is hiding something.</p>
<p>I finally ended up letting him go, with a threatening promise that I would be keeping a close eye on him to make sure that he wasn’t up to anything or hiding information about Simon from me.</p>
<p>(And in that moment, I began to feel Simon-levels of suspicions. Maybe I should have listened to him more. If he was right, and Baz has something to do with his disappearance, I will never forgive myself for not listening to him.)</p>
<p>The strangest thing about my conversation with Baz was that even though he tried to hide it, he seemed almost as concerned about Simon as I am.</p>
<p>You would think that he would be glad to have Simon gone. He finally has the room to himself, and he no longer has to worry about Simon following him around all the time.</p>
<p>He is free, but he doesn’t seem to be happy about it. Could it be possible that he <em>misses</em> Simon?</p>
<p>No. That would be crazy. I’m reading too much into things.</p>
<p>I can tell that Agatha is growing impatient with me now. She flips her long, blond hair over her shoulder and presses her mouth into a thin line as she crosses her arms over her chest, the painted nails of her right hand tapping a quick pace against her left arm.</p>
<p>My intention was not to irritate her—that has never helped anything—but I just want to understand whatever this thing is between her and Simon.</p>
<p>It is obvious that they care for each other, but it isn’t a relationship, no matter how many times they insist on calling it one. If it were, Agatha would be frantically searching for Simon with me, rather than telling me that I’m blowing this all out of proportion.</p>
<p>“Did you ever stop to consider the possibility that he simply decided not to come back?” he asks. “It’s possible that he finally got tired of his life getting put into danger year after year and decided that he has had enough.”</p>
<p>“He would have said something. He would have at least told me he was leaving. Or you,” I add a little too late.</p>
<p>She sighs and shakes her head at me, sending her hair swinging side to side gracefully. “Maybe he felt like he couldn’t tell anyone. With all of the pressure he’s received for the past seven years, he probably thought that someone would guilt him into staying. This way, he gets a clean break, no strings attached.”</p>
<p>I can’t tell if she actually believes this or if she’s hoping for the best-case scenario. One where Simon is choosing to live his best life, far away from the Humdrum.</p>
<p>I want to believe that he’s safe, too, but I can’t. I’m just not that optimistic, and I’ve seen too many terrible things happen to him over the years; I can’t imagine the things that could have happened without anyone there to watch over him or keep him safe.</p>
<p>Not that anyone can really keep Simon safe. He is constantly running headfirst into danger with no regard for his own safety. The best I can do is be by his side to try to help him escape that danger with minimal injuries.</p>
<p>But I wasn’t there for him this summer. I blamed it on the fact that the Mage won’t let anyone have contact with him, but I’ve broken that rule before. And yeah, I went to America this summer, but I shouldn’t have let visiting my boyfriend take priority over talking to Simon.</p>
<p>I could have at least checked on him. He is my friend, and I should have made sure that he was okay.</p>
<p>“What makes you think that that’s what happened?” I ask Agatha. “You sound awfully certain. Did he say something to you over the summer?”</p>
<p>“No. You know that we’re not allowed to have contact over the break.”</p>
<p>“Screw that.” I just barely manage not to shout at her. Though, I’m not sure who I’m angrier at in this moment, her or me. “Simon was taken away by the Humdrum at the end of term. Surely, that would be a good enough excuse to reach out to him.”</p>
<p>“You’re only proving my point,” she says, in an irritatingly calm manner. “If the Humdrum had summoned me, I wouldn’t want to return either. Can you really blame him?”</p>
<p>“No, but I was kidnapped, too, and here I am.”</p>
<p>“You also like to run directly into danger. A sane person would stay away. They’d run the other direction and never stop.”</p>
<p>I don’t think she’s trying to be insulting, so I decide not to take what she says personally.</p>
<p>“Even if you’re right, don’t you think that we should at least try to look for him?” I ask. “To make sure we’ve done all we can before we just give up on him?”</p>
<p>“Where would we even begin looking for him? We can’t just leave school, and it’s not like we know where the Mage sent him for the summer.”</p>
<p>“We have to at least try,” I insist, but I’m beginning to realize that I might be on my own for this. “We can’t give up on him.”</p>
<p>“I’m not giving up on him. I just don’t want to go around thinking that the worst has happened to him when it’s more likely that he’s perfectly fine.”</p>
<p>I want to yell at her, to shake some sense into her, but I know that it won’t help.</p>
<p>But Simon is her boyfriend, for Merlin’s sake. She should at least be as worried as I am, if not more so.</p>
<p>I want to say this to her, but things like that never go over too well. She’s already jealous of how close Simon and I are. This would only drive a deeper wedge between me and her.</p>
<p>As a last-ditch effort to sway her, I say, “What if he was taken by the Humdrum again? He could need our help.”</p>
<p>“What good could the two of us do? We’re no stronger than Simon.”</p>
<p>I silently admit that she has a point. Simon and I barely survived our last encounter with the Humdrum.</p>
<p>That only succeeds in making me feel worse, though. If the Humdrum did take Simon again, it’s possible that Simon did not survive the fight.</p>
<p>But no. I refuse to believe that’s true. Simon has to be alive.</p>
<p>“And if that were true,” Agatha continues, ignorant to my inner turmoil, “I’m sure that the Mage would be doing something about it. And the entire world of Mages would be in chaos, scouring the earth for him.”</p>
<p>“Maybe they’re trying to keep it a secret.”</p>
<p>She sighs like this conversation is exhausting her.</p>
<p>“Who would do that? And why?” She shakes her head, taking a step back. “I’m sure he’s fine, Penny. He’ll turn up somewhere, bright as ever, and you’ll see that there was never anything to worry about.”</p>
<p>She turns away from me, and I let her go.</p>
<p>I was never going to get her to change her mind, but I had to at least try.</p>
<p>Without help, there isn’t much that I can do to find Simon. I can only sit around and wait because Agatha was right about one thing: I don’t know where to even begin looking for him.</p>
<p>There is no one else to turn to for help.</p>
<p>The Mage is rarely around, and when I have spoken to him before, he was always pretty condescending. I doubt he would share any information with me, even if he had any.</p>
<p>I hate being this helpless.</p>
<p>From the very beginning, Simon was always there, my only real friend at Watford.</p>
<p>Now, without him, I feel all alone.</p>
<p>I just hope he’s okay wherever he is. I need him to be okay, even if he never returns to Watford.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Agatha</strong>
</p>
<p>I put on a brave face for Penny, but I am in fact worried about Simon. But I just can’t sit around fretting. I have to keep carrying on until there is some proof that she is right, that he is in some kind of mortal danger.</p>
<p>I always knew this day would come. I’ve been expecting it for years. I don’t want Simon to be gone, but I have to be realistic. That is the only way that I’m going to be able to get through this, because there is a very real possibility that we will never see him again, even if Penny refuses to accept it.</p>
<p>I always knew that someday Simon wouldn’t come back.</p>
<p>Even though the rest of the World of Mages believes that Simon will be able to save us all, I know that he won’t be able to do it, not on his own. He will keep fighting to keep us alive until it kills him, but he’s only fighting off the inevitable.</p>
<p>This could be happening now. And yes, maybe I should be more worried than I am, but the only other people who seem to be concerned are Penny and Baz.</p>
<p>I can’t imagine why Baz would care. He should be happy that Simon is no longer around to tell everyone the truth about him.</p>
<p>When I found him in the woods last year, I thought he was going to kill me.</p>
<p>He had this wild look in his eyes as he turned away from whatever helpless creature he had been feeding on. His fangs were still out, and when he saw me standing behind him, I thought he was going to lunge at me and start drinking from my neck, sucking me dry so that I wouldn’t live to tell anyone what I had seen.</p>
<p>But he only stared at me for a long time. So long that I was able to watch his fangs retract and his eyes change so that they were no longer dilated to the point of solid blackness. He more or less began to look like himself again, all while I stood there frozen, too afraid to move.</p>
<p>Finally, I started talking, apologizing (for what exactly, I’m not sure) and promising that I wouldn’t tell anyone, that his secret was safe with me.</p>
<p>Who would I tell anyway? Simon? He’s already certain that he’s right. He doesn’t need me to confirm it for him. No one else would care.</p>
<p>He continued to just stare at me, not saying a word, so I kept talking, telling him my own secret.</p>
<p>I told him all about how I wanted to leave Watford for good and leave magic behind with it. I told him how I didn’t feel like I belonged here. I just wanted to leave and live a normal life with all of my Normal friends.</p>
<p>He still stared at me silently, but I could see the judgement in his eyes. He could never even dream of leaving magic. No one could. No one but me.</p>
<p>I’m not sure why I thought trading a secret for a secret would be a good idea. I guess I was just hoping that it would stop him from killing me.</p>
<p>Although Simon’s been telling anyone who would listen that Baz is a vampire for years, and Baz has never attempted to stop him. Probably because no one actually believes Simon.</p>
<p>He’s the boy who cried “vampire” too many times without even an ounce of proof.</p>
<p>I, on the other hand, had just caught Baz in the act of sucking a wild animal dry, so who was to say that he wouldn’t do something to silence me?</p>
<p>“I’m not a killer.” It was barely a whisper, and if it weren’t so quiet out there, I wouldn’t have heard him.</p>
<p>I shifted my weight to my other foot but didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure whether I should trust him.</p>
<p>He took a deep breath and looked up to meet my eyes before he spoke again.</p>
<p>I don’t know what I expected to see, but I was surprised when he looked like the same Baz I had gone to school with for years.</p>
<p>Maybe I expected him to look more like a monster. Glowing red eyes and sharp teeth. I couldn’t even see any sign of his fangs anymore, though.</p>
<p>“I’ve never killed anyone,” he continued. “Never even tasted human blood. I only ever drink the rats in the Catacombs and wild creatures here in the woods if I get desperate enough. And I only drink enough to survive.”</p>
<p>I wasn’t sure why he was telling me all of that. Maybe we really were trading secrets. Or maybe he figured that it didn’t matter how much he told me if he was going to kill me anyway. Perhaps I would be his first kill, the person who truly turned him into a monster.</p>
<p>I should have been afraid, but I wasn’t.</p>
<p>Dating a ticking time bomb means that I’ve looked death in the face many times. I had already accepted the fact that I would likely die young, caught in the crossfire while Simon fought some terrible creature, so I’m not afraid of dying anymore.</p>
<p>Which is why I stepped forward and reached for Baz’s hand.</p>
<p>He looked at me quizzically when I gave it a light squeeze, but he didn’t push me away.</p>
<p>“I’m not going to tell anyone,” I told him. “I believe you.”</p>
<p>Something in his expression changed, but it was so fleeting that I nearly missed it and didn’t have time to figure out what it meant. He stepped forward and grabbed my other hand, looking down at me with an unreadable expression.</p>
<p>I had imagined being in that exact position numerous times before, but I could never figure out what I would do—what I wanted to do.</p>
<p>In that moment, as he moved closer, I think I knew.</p>
<p>I used to think that Baz was someone I would want to be with. I even secretly hoped that he would succeed in breaking up me and Simon. (I still can’t figure that out, though, because I love Simon. But I guess that isn’t enough.) Despite how I thought I used to feel, in that moment, I was sure that I didn’t want Baz either.</p>
<p>I had just opened my mouth to tell him that when I heard the footsteps.</p>
<p>Still holding Baz’s hands, I turned and saw Penny and Simon step through the trees. Their eyes instantly found mine and Baz’s hands.</p>
<p>Swallowing hard, I looked down guiltily.</p>
<p>Maybe I had known for a while that I wasn’t right for Simon, but I never wanted to hurt him.</p>
<p>I let go of Baz’s hands, and when I looked back up, Simon looked ready for a fight. His jaw was set, and his hands were balled into fists.</p>
<p>He took a step forward, but Penelope stopped him with a hand on his arm. He stilled, and I felt something flare up in me. Anger or jealousy or what, I’m not really sure.</p>
<p>I’ve never been able to talk Simon out of a fight, but without even saying a word, Penny had managed to stop him in his tracks.</p>
<p>It turned into a silent standoff then. Penny and Simon versus me and Baz. And I didn’t want to have any part in this.</p>
<p>All I could think about was why they were there. Were they looking for me? Or Baz? Did it matter?</p>
<p>No one moved for a long moment, but then a harsh, sucking wind picked up. It was kicking up dirt and leaves, and I could barely see. I think I heard someone call out, but the rushing of the wind muffled it.</p>
<p>I had begun to wonder if someone had managed to silently cast a spell when the wind stopped just as suddenly as it began.</p>
<p>I waited a beat before opening my eyes again. When I did, Penny and Simon were gone. There was no trace of them.</p>
<p>I turned to ask Baz what just happened, but he looked as stunned as I felt. He even looked concerned, something I had never seen on his face before.</p>
<p>We waited for a long time to see if they would reappear, but they didn’t. The sun had begun to set, and we had to get back to the school before the drawbridge went up for the night.</p>
<p>Baz and I didn’t speak of any of that night’s events, and I didn’t know until later the next day that Simon and Penny were missing. That they’d been kidnapped by the Humdrum.</p>
<p>I’ve kept Baz’s secret, though. I never told anyone what I saw him doing.</p>
<p>I still haven’t told Simon, even though I am sure he would love to know. He has been searching for proof for years, and now I finally have it.</p>
<p>If Simon had arrived just a little sooner, he would have seen it for himself. I still don’t know why he and Penny were out there.</p>
<p>And I still haven’t broken up with Simon.</p>
<p>That’s actually why I went out to the woods that day. For fresh air and to clear my head. I wanted to figure out a way to talk to Simon about how I’ve been feeling. To find a way to tell him that I didn’t want to be in a relationship without hurting him.</p>
<p>But then he got taken by the Humdrum. Then, it was summer, and I wasn’t allowed to have contact with him. And now he isn’t here.</p>
<p>Penny thinks I don’t care, but I do. Even if I don’t love him the right way, Simon is still my friend.</p>
<p>On the way back to the Cloisters, I pass by Baz in the courtyard.</p>
<p>I say his name, but he looks right through me, barely acknowledging my existence.</p>
<p>I suppose we never really talked much before, but I guess that I thought that after everything that happened that day in the woods, things might have changed. Looks like they haven’t.</p>
<p>He is truly a sight to behold, though. His usually perfectly coiffed hair is all a mess, sticking out in different directions, and his skin and hair have a greyer sheen than usual.</p>
<p>Knowing that he is a vampire doesn’t make him any less beautiful, but I still don’t feel drawn to him in the way that I wish I were.</p>
<p>He’s just Baz.</p>
<p>And I’m just Agatha. The girl who is too distant to feel anything for anyone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading!! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Baz searches the Wavering Wood for Simon and receives a Visiting.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p>
<p>Agatha tries to catch my attention and pull me into a conversation in the courtyard, but I don’t have time for it. I’m barely holding myself together, distraught with worry, and the more time that I waste on inane conversations, the more time passes that Simon could be in pain. Or worse.</p>
<p>I’m a mess without him here, and everything seems so uncertain. If Simon can just up and disappear, what else can happen that I will be helpless to stop?</p>
<p>The one thing that I <em>am</em> certain about right now is that Simon has to be at Watford. I know that’s an absurd thing to be sure of since I have absolutely no proof, but where else would he be? It’s not like he has anywhere else to go.</p>
<p>With this thought in mind, I begin to search the school for him. I spend day after day looking everywhere I can think of for him.</p>
<p>Weeks pass as I spend every bit of my free time searching each nook and cranny of Watford, thinking that maybe, just maybe, the Mage has Simon holed up somewhere, working on the next step of his plan to thwart the Old Families.</p>
<p>I find myself wanting to believe this is true because it’s a better alternative to the other hundred scenarios that are constantly running through my mind, giving me nightmares during what little sleep I manage to get.</p>
<p>One day, I decide to go out to the Wavering Woods to search for him. I know that Simon’s not particularly fond of it, but if he were in need of a place to hide where it would be difficult to find him, the expansive woods that surround half of Watford would be an excellent spot.</p>
<p>Wand in hand, I whisper locating and summoning spells under my breath, one after the other, until I feel drained and the stars are peeking out from behind the clouds.</p>
<p>I continue this routine for several days, delving deeper and deeper into the forest each night.</p>
<p>Several objects that people must have dropped out here over the years come to me, pulled from their hiding places by my magic. There is an old, rusted pocket watch, a faded school tie, a single shoe, somebody’s pants, and various objects that have decayed beyond recognition.</p>
<p>Still, there is no sign of Simon.</p>
<p>During my third night of searching, a dryad appears before me, looking none too happy about the fact that I am trespassing in the woods.</p>
<p>“What is it that you seek?” she asks, hovering in front of me and blocking my path.</p>
<p>Her hair nearly blends in with trees behind her, similar to the moss that covers them, and she’s wearing a Victorian-style dress and boots, holding an umbrella over her head the way that the leaves and branches cover the trees around us.</p>
<p>“Simon,” I say. “The Chosen One.”</p>
<p>“The smoky one? With the sword that hacks away the trees?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” I say, wondering at the way she describes him. “Have you seen him recently?”</p>
<p>“I have not. We do not like him to be here. He destroys our home.”</p>
<p>Right. Of course he does. He has always been rather reckless with that sword of his. I only hope it didn’t get him into trouble over the summer.</p>
<p>“Why is it that you seek the destructive one?”</p>
<p>“I worry for his safety,” I say, seeing no point in lying.</p>
<p>“Even though he worries not for yours?”</p>
<p>“If he’s meant to save us all, I have to be worried, right?”</p>
<p>She hums and tilts her head to the side, like she’s trying to figure something out.</p>
<p>“I see,” she says after a long moment. “But he is not here.”</p>
<p>“Alright. Thank you for your time.”</p>
<p>“Of course.” I turn away, but she speaks again. “Would you like us to tell you if we see him here?”</p>
<p>“Would you?” I ask, surprised by the offer.</p>
<p>“Yes. We do not mind your presence here. You are not a danger to us.”</p>
<p>“That would be nice,” I say, nodding once before I begin to make my way out of the Wood.</p>
<p>I don’t know whether I should trust her, but the next day, I begin searching other places for Simon again.</p>
<p>I barely sleep or eat during these weeks that seem to drag on, feeding just enough to survive and avoiding talking to others so that they won’t notice the cracks in my armour.</p>
<p>I spend most of my nights in the Catacombs. It doesn’t feel right to be in the tower without Simon, so I’ve been trying to avoid it as much as possible, even going as far as bringing a spare outfit down there with me. (Even though it is a pain to spell it clean in the mornings.)</p>
<p>On the rare occasion that I do spend the night in our room, I have to resist the urge to grab the pillow from Simon’s bed and inhale, hoping to catch any lingering scent of him.</p>
<p>Sometimes, I imagine that I catch a whiff of that smoky sweet scent that is so uniquely him. If you could bottle up the perfect mixture of scents to represent autumn, it would be the way that Simon smells.</p>
<p>He has the smoky scent of campfires, the sickly-sweet scent of caramelized apples, and the woodsy scent of fallen, decaying leaves.</p>
<p>It’s the perfect blend of scents, and I drive myself crazy trying to reimagine it, which is just another reason to stay out of our room.</p>
<p>After a particularly long and stressful day of searching, though, I find myself in desperate need of a shower and the comfort of a bed rather than the cold, unforgiving stone down in the Catacombs.</p>
<p>It takes me a long time to fall asleep tonight. Every time that I close my eyes, a new, more inventive way that Simon could be being tortured appears in mind.</p>
<p>I used to take twisted joy in imagining torturing Simon, but now, it threatens to tear me apart.</p>
<p>On nights like this, I find myself wishing that I could forget about Simon and the pain that his disappearance brings me, just for a few minutes.</p>
<p>There is a spell that I could use – <strong><em>out of sight, out of mind</em></strong> – but so much could go wrong if I attempted it.</p>
<p>For starters, someone else would have to cast it, which would require me to tell them exactly what it is that I want to forget or risk forgetting the wrong thing. I obviously can’t tell anyone that I want to forget Simon. There would be too many questions about why. Even Dev and Niall would find it strange, even if I tried threatening them to get them to cast the spell on me.</p>
<p>And even if I did get someone else to cast the spell, there is no telling how long it would last. From what I have read, the spell affects everyone differently, and in one case, the spell still hasn’t worn off. That was years ago, and no one has managed to find a counterspell. Whatever that person chose to forget is still forgotten by them.</p>
<p>I’m not willing to risk never remembering Simon. There is a small chance that I might never see him again, which could mean never remembering him if that is the thing that would trigger me into remembering him once again.</p>
<p>I would rather live my life always missing him and wondering what happened to him than live a life never knowing him or the way I felt about him.</p>
<p>Forgetting Simon would be like forgetting a piece of myself. I would never be myself, and I might not ever remember why.</p>
<p>The pain is worth knowing Simon.</p>
<p>When I finally fall asleep, I have barely been asleep for an hour when I am woken by a rustling sound.</p>
<p>Heart racing, I sit up in bed, looking around the room, summoning a ball of fire in my hand with barely a thought (a bad habit to have when you’re extremely flammable). I look around thinking—hoping—that Simon has finally returned and is noisily getting ready for bed.</p>
<p>At first glance the room appears to be empty, and I feel my heart sink. But then I notice something move in front of the window.</p>
<p>It is immediately obvious that it isn’t Simon, and as the strange form moves closer, the identity of the person is more shocking than Simon’s unexplained disappearance.</p>
<p>My breath catches as I take the person in.</p>
<p>“Mum?” I whisper, unable to speak any louder. I feel like I’m dreaming.</p>
<p>She looks just like her portrait that hangs outside the Mage’s office, the same way I’ve envisioned her for years, my memories of her from when I was little vague and distorted by the pain of missing her. </p>
<p>Her hair is pulled back into a bun, and she wears the formal robes that were slung over the back of her chair most days when I was here with her. She liked to wear them, liked what they meant, but she also thought they were too stuffy, especially when it was just the two of us in her office. </p>
<p>I’m still just staring at her when she moves closer and closer to me until she’s cradling my face in her hands. Her breath is cold on my face, but I barely register it, far too stunned by her sudden appearance.</p>
<p>I know that she is just a Visiting, but seeing her is overwhelming. It rips wide open an old wound that never fully healed, and I feel tears burning behind my eyes as she speaks.</p>
<p>“Little puff,” she whispers, and her ghostly voice runs like ice through my bones, causing me to shiver. “I have missed you so much. I’m sorry that I was not there for you.”</p>
<p>I shake my head, a few tears spilling over as I do. “It’s okay.”</p>
<p>“I need you to do something for me.”</p>
<p>“Anything,” I say. “What do you need?”</p>
<p>“My killer walks. I need you to find Nico and bring me peace. I need…” She breaks off, and tears begin to fill her eyes. She must be feeling the same things that I am.</p>
<p>Despair at not getting to be with each other, a deep aching loss. We missed out on so much. And this is going to be over far too soon.</p>
<p>She leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead. I squeeze my eyes shut, hating how much this feels like a goodbye, and the tears start to stream from my eyes, uninhibited.</p>
<p>“Find Nico,” she repeats, a shout that comes out as a whisper as she starts to fade.</p>
<p>I try to grab her arm, but my hand goes through it. I don’t want her to go. I don’t want to lose her again.</p>
<p>“Mum,” I call, feeling like I’m five years old again.</p>
<p>“I love you, my son,” she says, so quietly, and then she’s gone, faded away.</p>
<p>I jump out of bed and reach for the space where she just stood. I want to feel her again. I want her to hold me and tell me that everything is alright, the way that she used to when I was little and afraid of the things I couldn’t understand at the time.</p>
<p>I’m sobbing now as I fall to my knees.</p>
<p>I want my mum back. I want her here with me, but I can’t have that.</p>
<p>I am going to find Nico, and then I am going to make them pay for what they did, for what they took from me.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>I wake up the next morning with a renewed determination and a deep ache in my chest that fuels it.</p>
<p>My mother gave me a task, and I will complete it, no matter the cost. I will just have to find some way to balance it with what I’m already doing, because now, not only do I have to search for Simon, but I also have to find my mother’s murderer.</p>
<p>The library seems like the best place for both of those things, so first thing the next morning, that’s where I head.</p>
<p>I’ve read a lot of the books in here over the years, but there are also quite a few hidden passageways in the library and probably many more that I have yet to discover. Maybe Simon is hidden away in one of them.</p>
<p>I decide to start by searching the books for any mention of someone named Nico but come up empty. Then, I start wandering up and down the shelves, hoping that some book will jump out at me (perhaps literally; it has happened before) or that I will run into Simon, as if he’s been hiding between the stacks this whole time, just waiting for me to find him.</p>
<p>The more that I explore the library, the bigger it seems to be. It’s as if the library is becoming acquainted with me and deciding to share more of its information with me.</p>
<p>It seems so big, yet it’s so empty.</p>
<p>After another week of searching has passed, I still haven't found any information on Simon’s whereabouts or about who may have killed my mother. Just many dusty books that haven’t been opened in ages and whose words are, sadly, illegible, as if they faded away because they were unwatched.</p>
<p>I am starting to lose hope. It has been months since school began, and there has still been no sign of Simon. I’m afraid that there isn’t much that I can do.</p>
<p>Well… There is one more thing that I could try.</p>
<p>There’s a spell. A location spell, to be exact.</p>
<p>I have of course been using several location spells throughout my searching, but this one is different.</p>
<p>It is a powerful spell, and it takes a lot out of the user. It exhausts them, practically taking up all of their magic in one go.</p>
<p>Also, the target of the spell can feel it like a wave, so it isn’t ideal if you don’t want the person to know that you are looking for them.</p>
<p>And you have to know the person <em>really</em> well. You have to know how they think and act, and you have to know what makes them angry and happy and sad.</p>
<p>After seven years of living together, I probably know more about Simon than I would maybe like to, and I don’t care if he finds out that I am looking for him. I just need to know where he is.</p>
<p>I wait a couple of more days to see if I can come up with a better option, but there’s nothing. This is my last chance at finding Snow, which is how I end up back in our room one night, prepared to cast the spell.</p>
<p>I move to stand in the middle of the room, facing Simon’s side. There isn’t much of him left there, but for the best results, I need to be as close to something belonging to him as I can. (His bed might be best, but I can’t bring myself to sit on it, so I settle for standing next to it, next to the window that hasn’t been opened since the last time that he was here.)</p>
<p>Wand held firmly aloft, I take a deep breath and utter the spell.</p>
<p>The words roll easily off my tongue, and I can already feel the power in them. I can feel my magic pooling in my hand before it bursts out of my wand in the way of sparks and smoke that wrap around me and fill the room before pushing their way through the crack under the door, presumably headed to wherever Simon is.</p>
<p>I stand there for a long moment, waiting for something else to happen. Waiting for the spell to work.</p>
<p>According to the literature that I read, the spell is supposed to work pretty much instantaneously.</p>
<p>The smoke rushes to the target, washing over them, then the user is supposed to feel a similar wave that alerts them to where the person they are searching for is.</p>
<p>But nothing like that happens. The wave doesn’t come, and I can feel the effects of casting such a spell already. I’m beginning to feel woozy and like I’m about to pass out.</p>
<p>I lower my wand and stumble towards my bed, feeling an immense exhaustion start to take over me even as the crushing weight of having failed Simon falls on top of me.</p>
<p>I couldn’t find him. He could be in danger, and even though I have done everything that I can think of, I was unable to find him.</p>
<p>There is nothing else I can do. I have officially run out of options.</p>
<p>As I collapse on my bed, sleep quickly taking over me, there is only one thought in my mind:</p>
<p>
  <em>Where are you, Simon Snow?</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The last scene of this scene of this chapter, when Baz casts the spell, is the scene that my artist drew. <a href="https://angelsfalling16.tumblr.com/post/627070693768626176/carry-on-big-bang-where-are-you-simon-snow">Here's the link</a> in case you missed it.</p>
<p>Thanks for reading!! &lt;3 </p>
<p>Come find me on <a href="https://angelsfalling16.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a> and tell me what you think! :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Baz feels the effects of the spell he cast, and Simon finally returns to Watford.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p>
<p>When I finally wake up the next day, I have a killer headache and I’m groggy. I have no idea how long I was asleep for, but I have a feeling that it’s the longest that I have slept since returning to Watford two months ago.</p>
<p>I barely managed to collapse on my bed before I passed out last night. Casting that spell used up a lot of my magic and my energy. It made me thirsty, too. The thirstiest that I can ever remember being.</p>
<p>I had to keep myself awake long enough to make it down to the Catacombs to feed on any rat that came into sight. I don’t know what would have happened if I had waited until now to feed, but I can’t imagine that anything good would have come from it.</p>
<p>Besides the pounding in my head, though, I feel relatively good today. All of those rats I drained last seem to have replenished my energy and made up for how awful I have been treating my body recently. (Although, I may have to start feeding in the woods for a bit.)</p>
<p>As I look over myself and find things to be normal (or as normal as things for a teenage vampire can be), I don’t think there were any serious lasting effects of the spell, but I am now feeling hungry for something other than rodents or wild creatures. I am going to need a shower first, though.</p>
<p>A quick, simple spell tells me that it’s late afternoon. I slept the entire day and have missed all of my classes.</p>
<p>I doubt anyone noticed.</p>
<p>Why would they notice me being gone for a day when they haven’t seemed to notice that Simon has been gone for <em>months</em>?</p>
<p>I take a long, hot shower, and while I wait for it to be dinner time, I try to figure out why the spell didn’t work. There are only three reasons that I can come up with.</p>
<p>The first one is that I didn’t cast it right. I find this to be highly unlikely. I did a lot of research on it, and I never would have cast it if I weren’t completely certain that I knew how to do it. Plus, the smoke and sparks that were released from my wand were exactly like what the books described would happen. Which means that something else had to have gone wrong.</p>
<p>One of the other reasons that I come up with is almost unthinkable, and I refuse to even consider it as a viable reason. The only thing I read about that would cause the spell to go off but not produce any results is if the target were deceased.</p>
<p>But Simon can’t be dead. I would know if that were true.</p>
<p>Which leads to the third possible cause, the most likely of them all. Simon must be in a hole somewhere, one of the places where magic has disappeared and where my spell would be unable to reach him.</p>
<p>I just can’t figure out why he would be there. I don’t think he would go to one by choice, but that is the only option I am willing to consider right now.</p>
<p>I could go and search all of the dead zones for him, but there are too many. Also, it would take me a long time to search them all, and I can’t just leave school. That would at least raise some red flags with my family, and I can’t think of an excuse that would explain why I decided to just up and leave school.</p>
<p>My aunt would have so many questions and would probably follow me just to find up what I was up to, most likely in the hopes that I had finally decided to do their bidding and go after the Mage and his merry band of men.</p>
<p>I wouldn’t be able to tell her that I was looking for Simon. She would tell me that it was a good thing he was gone and then she’d go running back to the Families to tell them that the Mage’s strongest weapon was missing and now was the best time to attack.</p>
<p>I don’t want to be the reason that that war gets officially ignited after all this time. All I want is to find Simon and make sure that he is safe.</p>
<p>While I am thinking all of this over, I must fall asleep, and the next time I open my eyes, it is dark outside the windows. The sun appears to be beginning its ascent into the sky.</p>
<p>It seems like the spell may have had a larger effect on me than I originally thought.</p>
<p>My headache has receded into a dull ache, but even though I have now had plenty of sleep, I still feel exhausted, like all of my energy has been drained from me.</p>
<p>I move to stand and immediately have to sit back down. The world is spinning, and I feel ravenous. I haven’t eaten anything in at least 24 hours, which is probably exacerbating the effects of casting the spell.</p>
<p>I need to eat. And soon. It’s a good thing that the dining hall opens really early for breakfast.</p>
<p>I stand slowly this time and take a few minutes to attempt to make myself look presentable. Falling asleep with my hair wet means that it dried funkily, so rather than using what little energy I have to fix it, I resolve to pulling it back into an artfully messy bun.</p>
<p>If Simon ever does show up, I might just kill him for turning me into someone who misses class and shows up for meals looking like I just rolled out of bed.</p>
<p>I plan to simply grab some food and take it back to my room, but by the time I have my plate piled high with more food than I could possibly eat, I feel like I need to sit down. If I don’t, I think I might collapse in the middle of the dining hall, making a right fool of myself in front of everyone.</p>
<p>I manage to make it to my usual table where Dev and Niall are already sitting, a pot of tea resting on the table between them, and I realize that I am one of the few people who doesn’t usually show up for breakfast extremely early.</p>
<p>I stumble just as I get to the table and nearly drop my plate of food as I fall into my seat.</p>
<p>Dev raises his brows at me before pouring some tea into a cup of me, silently adding just the right amount of cream and sugar.</p>
<p>I take the cup from him gratefully, and for a moment, I think that he isn’t going to comment on my appearance or clumsiness.</p>
<p>But then he smirks at me and says, “Merlin, Baz. Did you spend the entire weekend <em>drinking</em>? You look like crap, and you missed classes yesterday. Which you never do. Even when you were delirious with a fever that one year, you made it through the entire day of classes before passing out that afternoon at football practice.”</p>
<p>I attempt a sneer at my cousin, but it comes out as more of a grimace. He laughs and shakes his head at me before turning his attention back to his food and whatever conversation he was having with Niall before I arrived.</p>
<p>I ignore them, glad that it doesn’t seem like anything is too off about me. I just want to eat and go back to bed. Who cares if I miss another day of classes? I’ll catch up. I’m probably ahead of everyone else anyway.</p>
<p>Holding my hand in front of my mouth, I start to eat.</p>
<p>Dev and Niall already know that I’m a vampire, but I don’t need the rest of the school finding out.</p>
<p>I didn’t even want my friends to know, but it’s difficult to hide something like that from the two people I spend the majority of my time with.</p>
<p>We have never really talked about it in so many words, but Dev and Niall have quietly shown their support over the years.</p>
<p>A lot of nights, they walk with me to the White Chapel after dinner before we part for the night, never questioning or commenting on what it is that I do there. And on the days that I have begun to look greyer than usual, they will gently remind me to eat, not meaning actual food.</p>
<p>These two are the best friends that I could have asked for, and I don’t give them enough credit. Especially when they have been dealing with the fact that I have been crabbier than usual recently.</p>
<p>I’m just not great at expressing my feelings or telling people that I appreciate them. But I <em>do</em> appreciate them, and I am extremely grateful that they have stuck by my side for all of these years. I don’t think anyone other than them would have put up with my mostly unwarranted hatred of Simon Snow as long as they have.</p>
<p>I have managed to make it a third of the way through my food when the doors slam open.</p>
<p>By this point in the year, everyone has grown accustomed to it, even the first years, and only a few people flinch now.</p>
<p>I am one of the even fewer people who look up to see who it is, ready to send a deadly glare at whoever it is for making my head pound harder and feel like it is about to split right down the middle.</p>
<p>When I look up, though, my glare falters, and I freeze, my fork falling form my hand and bouncing off my plate and onto the floor. I barely notice it as I take in the person currently standing in the doorway, illuminated by the sun behind them.</p>
<p>
  <em>Simon Snow.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>I don’t mean to blast the doors open.</p>
<p>But my magic seems to be even more unstable than usual. When I reached for the door handle, my magic just came pouring off of me, forcing the doors open before I could even touch them.</p>
<p>I stumble into the dining hall, knowing full well that I must look a sight. I was too hungry to stop by my room to clean up. I can’t remember the last time that I ate a real meal, and I’m absolutely famished.</p>
<p>It seems to take people a moment to realize that I have just walked in, but I am acutely aware of the growing number of eyes that follow me around the room and the way that the room starts to fill with the sound of barely hushed exclamations of “He’s here!” and “Simon!” and a few “Is he alright?”</p>
<p>I do my best to ignore them all, piling my plate to a precarious height with scrambled eggs, bacon, and sour cherry scones (my favorite.)</p>
<p>When I turn towards the table I usually sit at, Penny is watching me with wide eyes, worry and shock evident on her face. From the way she is sitting on the edge of her seat, I can tell that she is resisting the urge to run over to me and start checking me over to see if I’m injured.</p>
<p>I’m glad she doesn’t because neither of us would want to make a scene, especially not in the middle of the dining hall.</p>
<p>When I get to the table, though, she starts in with a million questions about where I’ve been and if I’m okay, but I don’t respond. I barely even look at her. I’m just so tired. (<em>So bloody tired</em>.)</p>
<p>As I eat, I allow myself to glance around the room.</p>
<p>I tell myself that I’m not looking for anyone in particular, but when my eyes find Baz, they stay there.</p>
<p>Something looks different about him. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is, but something is definitely off.</p>
<p>It could just be that I haven’t seen him in a long time, but it’s like he is holding himself differently or something. He doesn’t look like his usual self, but I suppose I don’t either. Whatever it is about him, it’s a little unsettling to see because I’m used to see him looking so poised and confident, and right now he is…not that.</p>
<p>I stare at him for too long trying to figure it out and come up with nothing.</p>
<p>It’s hard to explain because he doesn’t exactly look different (well, except for the fact that his hair is up today, something I’ve rarely seen before) but I get this feeling as I look at him like there’s something upsetting him. I just don’t know what.</p>
<p>Baz looks up at me while I’m watching him, and a strange expression crosses his face. He’s frowning, but not in his usual manner. It’s more of a concerned frown than an evil one, but it can’t be directed at me.</p>
<p>Baz Pitch has never been concerned about me in his life.</p>
<p>I tear my eyes away from him and continue eating.</p>
<p>When I’m done, Penny walks with me to Mummer’s House. She offers to go up with me, but I shake my ahead. She asks if I plan to attend classes that day, and I shake my head again. It’s all I can seem to manage right now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Penny</strong>
</p>
<p>Ragged. It’s the only way to explain the way that Simon looks right now.</p>
<p>I’m used to seeing him thin and worn when he returns in August, but it’s October now, and this is the worst that I have ever seen him. Even after our run-in with the Humdrum last year when blood was oozing from his pores, he didn’t look this bad.</p>
<p>Usually by this point in the term, he would have filled out a bit after eating a few months of roast beef and scones with too much butter. He wouldn’t look like he doesn’t even fit into his own skin.</p>
<p>Today, though, he looks at least twice as bad as usual. It’s hard to look at him, but he won’t look at me either. He’s acting distant, like he hasn’t fully returned yet, and I want to scoop him up into my arms and keep him safe until he is himself again. But I don’t think it will be that simple.</p>
<p>He looks scraped and lost, like a puppy abandoned to the streets. He looks uncared for and almost like he hasn’t seen the sun in months.</p>
<p>The knuckles of his hands are covered in unhealed wounds, and they break open as he grips his fork tightly in his hand. His hair is unwashed and is tangled and matted in ways that look impossible to get out. I can’t even imagine what he went through while he was gone.</p>
<p>Where has he been? What happened to him while he was gone?</p>
<p>I think I’m afraid to find out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>Trudging up the stairs to the top of the tower where my room sits seems to take all of the energy that I may have just gained from eating.</p>
<p>By the time I reach the top, I’m out of breath, and my legs are trembling, threatening to give out beneath me.</p>
<p>Climbing those stairs hasn’t made me feel this tired since the beginning of first year when I was so malnourished that any kind of extra exertion like that had me feeling faint.</p>
<p>I hesitate for a moment at the door before holding my hand over my hip to summon the Sword of Mages.</p>
<p>It hasn’t come for me in so long that I doubt it will come now, but with my magic having already gone haywire once today, I can’t risk using it.</p>
<p>And I need to know. I need to know whether things have changed forever or if there is still a chance that things will be okay, that <em>I’ll </em>be okay.</p>
<p>I whisper the incantation, barely moving my lips and wait with bated breath.</p>
<p>I watch as the sword slowly begins to take shape in my hand, and for the first time in weeks, I feel a bit of hope.</p>
<p>I use the tip of the sword to prick my finger and press it into the stone to reintroduce myself to the room. (Will it still remember me after so long? It feels like ages since the last time I stood outside this door.)</p>
<p>I should be worried about Baz catching a whiff of my blood and going full-on vampire on me, but I know that I’ll be fine. The Anathema will protect me if he does attack me, but I doubt he will. He never has before.</p>
<p>As I step into the room, I expect to find that Baz has taken over the room, but it is exactly how I remember it, if a little bit musty smelling. Which reminds me…</p>
<p>I walk over and crank open both of the windows.</p>
<p>The air that flows in is chillier than it usually is when I return to Watford, but I welcome the freshness of it. It’s a relief to feel the wind rush over me again after so long.</p>
<p>I turn back to face the room, and the familiarity of it almost makes me smile. It has been such a long time since I’ve been here, but this place still feels like home.</p>
<p>I’m grateful that Baz didn’t take over our room but a little surprised by that as well. He spent the entirety of first year complaining about how he deserved to have his own room, so he should have jumped at the chance to finally have that.</p>
<p>Spotting my uniform lying on the end of my bed just like it is every year, I pick it up and decide to get myself cleaned up and change into it.</p>
<p>I run a hot bath, unsure how much longer I will be able to stand. I feel a wave of relief as I peel my ragged clothes off of my body, and I instantly toss them in the bin, wanting to never have to look at them again.</p>
<p>After scrubbing myself from head to toe three times with the Watford-issued soap, I drain the tub and towel off.</p>
<p>I wait to look at myself in the mirror until I am fully dressed, my tie wrapped in a poor knot that Baz will definitely comment on. When I see my reflection, I frown at my appearance.</p>
<p>There’s a jagged cut on my forehead and deep, purple bruises beneath my eyes, but that isn’t what worries me. No, it’s the way that my uniform hangs off of me like it’s two sizes too big.</p>
<p>Every other year, my uniform fit me perfectly, as if someone had tailored it to fit my body exactly. It doesn’t feel right for my uniform to fit like this. It’s like I put on someone else’s uniform by mistake. It even has that weird discomfort of wearing something that isn’t mine.</p>
<p>It probably would have fit me at the beginning of the year, but because of everything that has happened since then, it doesn’t.</p>
<p>It makes me feel inordinately sad. I guess I was just hoping that it would have magickally changed to fit me.</p>
<p>For a moment, this small thing makes me feel like I don’t belong here at Watford, but I quickly shake that thought away. I can’t think like that. I want to be here, and I will fight anyone or anything that tries to prevent that.</p>
<p>This place is my home, and I won’t leave without a fight.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi, everyone. It's been a while (like 4 and a half months?) since the last time I updated this, but I'm finally back!! I won't go into the details of why I quit posting this, but a lot has happened since then, and I'm so happy to be back with this fic.</p><p>Right now, I have written everything except the epilogue, which means I'm able to stick to a regular posting schedule this time. I will be posting a new chapter every Wednesday and Saturday until the fic is finished, and I hope you all like it! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p><p>I wish that I could check on Simon, see if he is okay, but I wouldn’t be able to get near him even if I tried. Bunce has been guarding him as if he were the Queen ever since he showed up at breakfast yesterday.</p><p>She was even standing outside of Mummer’s house after dinner last night, and if looks could kill, I would have been dead on the spot. She obviously still suspects that I had something to do with Simon’s disappearance even though she has no evidence of that.</p><p>I ended up going to classes yesterday in the hopes that Simon would be there, too, but he never showed up. After the first couple of classes, which I nearly fell asleep during, I began to wonder if maybe I had imagined him at breakfast. Maybe one of the effects of the spell is vivid hallucinations.</p><p>I would have actually believed that if I hadn’t caught snippets of people’s whispered conversations about his entrance this morning.</p><p>I had to stop myself from running up to our room to make sure that he was still there and hadn’t disappeared. I don’t know what I would have done if I couldn’t find him.</p><p>When I finally got to our room last night, I was happy to see him there even if he was already in bed.</p><p>I didn’t want to disturb him, so I didn’t rush over to him the way that I yearned to, and I didn’t even mess with the windows that he had thrown open. Though, after not having to sleep with a mound of blankets for a while and having put those away, I froze all night.</p><p>If I still hadn’t been so wiped from the spell, I doubt that I would have slept at all last night.</p><p>I kept wondering about where Simon had been and if I had somehow summoned him with my spell. Which would be impossible. It was just a location spell. It has to be a coincidence.</p><p>Still, it’s weird that he showed up a day after I cast it.</p><p>When Simon burst into the dining hall yesterday, I almost believed that I was seeing a ghost or witnessing another Visiting. He appears to have wasted away into almost nothing during that time that he was gone.  His clothes were tattered and barely hanging onto him, and his skin was practically translucent.</p><p>I can only imagine where he has been and what he went through.</p><p>One thing I know for sure is that Simon was not taking an extended vacation.</p><p>He looks sickly. Close to death even. It’s like all of the color has been drained out of him. He is even paler than I am, and I would think that he had been Turned if there wasn’t still so much life in him.</p><p>Looking at Simon right now is like looking at a dying sun.</p><p>It’s as though the fire inside of him has been dimmed, and he just needs a spark to reignite it.</p><p>If only it were that simple. If only I knew what it was that is sucking the life out of him.</p><p>Simon and I only have one class together that we don’t also share with Bunce, and I have been anxiously waiting for it all day. Although I half expect her to come marching in behind him anyway.</p><p>This is the first chance that I have gotten all day to look at Simon openly without Bunce turning to glare at me venomously with that deep suspicion that I have grown to expect from Simon, not his fiery sidekick.</p><p>Now that she’s not here to try to scare me away, I can see that being back at Watford for a day hasn’t magickally returned Simon to his usual self.</p><p>Not that I expected it to. It is just so jarring to see him like this.</p><p>I wish that I could help him. But I don’t know how.</p><p>There is a war raging inside of me as I sit through this class, two rows in front of Simon.</p><p>One part of me wants to march over to him and start berating him with questions about where he has been and what happened to him while another part of me wants to pull him into my arms and check him all over—and then never let him go so that no one can ever hurt him again.</p><p>Since I’m not sure that I will be able to resist the latter, I know that I should just stay away from him for now.</p><p>Simon doesn’t want me anywhere near him, and I would be the last person he ever confided in, so I decide to just keep an eye on him for now, watch him from a distance. I’ll wait and see what happens before I make any rash decisions.</p><p>And who knows? Maybe things will go back to normal.</p><p>Well, as normal as things can be when you’re a vampire, and your roommate is the Chosen One.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p><p>I just want things to go back to normal.</p><p>I want to go back two months and never get in that taxicab. I want to show up at Watford three days before term begins and be both excited and sad about my final year here at Watford.</p><p>I just want to go back to before.</p><p>But unfortunately, time travel spells don’t work in that way. And even if they did, I would probably wreck the universe or whatever trying to cast one.</p><p>Being back at Watford was supposed to fix things. For two months, I kept telling myself that if I could just get back to this place, everything would be alright.</p><p>It was one of the few things that kept me going.</p><p>I had a whole list in my head of things that I kept thinking of to try to hold on. It was similar to the one that I had of things I wouldn’t let myself think of all summer, but this time, I had to keep thinking of these things to keep myself grounded, to keep myself hanging on to life.</p><p>
  <strong>Things That Kept Me Going:</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>No. 1 – Sour cherry scones</strong>
</p><p>I think what I really missed was any kind of food, but I missed scones the most. Every time that a plate of bland-looking food was pushed through that slot in the door, I would lie down on my stiff, musty smelling mattress, close my eyes, and imagine that I was sitting in the dining hall at Watford with a steaming plate of cherry scones in front of me.</p><p>I could almost taste them as I imagined spreading an absurd amount of butter on them and eating each one in two bites, but then, my stomach would growl, reminding me where I was, reminding me that I was nowhere near Watford and that I may never be able to return.</p><p>It was hard to sleep when I was starving, and I found myself wishing that I was back at the care homes at times. Sure, the food there wasn’t always the best or even the freshest, but at least It was safe to assume that no one had poisoned it.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>No. 2 – The care homes</strong>
</p><p>I never thought that I would find myself wishing that I was back in a home, but during those two months that I was gone, I realized that there were worse places I could be.</p><p>I wouldn’t have even minded having to put up with the other boys in the home if it only meant that I wouldn’t be alone in that room, feeling like there was no way out. I would have welcomed the fights and the bruises and the feeling like everyone hated because it would at least mean that someone cared about me, right?</p><p>Yeah, it wouldn’t be in a good way, but hating me would mean that they cared in some way and that my existence wasn’t confined to a dark room where I felt like I was going crazy.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>No. 3 – Penny</strong>
</p><p>I probably missed Penny the most. She’s the only real friend I have, and I knew that even if she wasn’t able to go out and look for me, she was at the very least wondering and worrying about me.</p><p>I missed being able to talk to her and hearing about all of the stuff she did during the summer. She always keeps me sane, like when I tell her about Baz’s latest scheme, and during a time when I was slowly going insane, I needed her the most. </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>No. 4 – Baz</strong>
</p><p>Baz is another thing I never thought I would miss, but I guess when you’re deprived of everything in the world, you will even begin to miss your evil roommate.</p><p>I also kept wondering what he might be up to without me at Watford to stop him.</p><p>Was he terrorizing the other students? Researching new, deadly spells and ways to steal people’s magic? Did he find someone else to focus he punches on, sending some other unsuspecting student down the stairs? I bet he was coming up with all sorts of way to take down the Mage and the school without me there to stop him.</p><p>Maybe he was just celebrating the fact that he didn’t have to deal with me anymore. I bet he thought his final year would be peaceful without me here to ruin it.</p><p>I don’t think I am currently in any shape to stop any of his evil plots, but still, while I was gone, I yearned to be here, following him around and trying to figure out what he was up to, even if it meant following him back down to the creepy, destitute Catacombs.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>No. 5 – The football pitch</strong>
</p><p>I missed being able to run around with other kids, kicking a ball around just for the fun of it. I’ve never been a very good player, couldn’t even make it on the team, but it was a fun way to spend my free time. (And having some fresh air would have been nice.)</p><p>Watching Baz play would have been an added bonus because that always meant that I would be able to know that he wasn't up to anything nefarious at the moment.  Even if I swear, he once blew something up while he was still in the middle of a game even though no magickal instruments are allowed on or around the pitch to prevent cheating. It wasn’t a huge explosion, but it would have meant that not only had he blown something up but that he had broken a rule of a game he claims to love so much.</p><p>Who knows how much he managed to cheat without me there to watch his every move?</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>No. 6 – My uniform</strong>
</p><p>I just wanted some clean clothes. I wore the same thing from the moment I left the care homes up until the moment I got up to my room and bathed. I would have gladly changed into anything, but my perfectly fitted Watford uniform is what I wished for the most. Not that that's what I got when I was finally able to change. Still, the too big clothes were better than the filthy rags I ended up in.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>No. 7 – My room</strong>
</p><p>It's our room, I suppose, and honestly, I didn't mind having to come back here and share my room with an evil vampire. I just wanted to be in a place with windows and a comfortable bed and a bathroom that wasn't a bucket in the corner.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>No. 8 – Magic</strong>
</p><p>I think I missed magic most of all. Not necessarily my magic but magic in general. I wanted to be surrounded by that feeling of anything being possible with just a few words. I just wanted the comfort of it, of feeling like I belonged someplace special. In that room, it felt like all of that had been stripped away.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>No. 9 – The Wavering Wood</strong>
</p><p>Fuck the Wavering Wood. I’ve had more bad experiences there than good ones.</p><p>But now it’s one of the few places I feel safe, and I’d take it over that dark room any day.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>No. 10 – Other people</strong>
</p><p>I missed everyone. Penny, Ebb, the goats, my classmates. I just wanted some fucking company. I wanted to know that I wasn’t alone in the world and that there were people who cared about whether I lived or died.</p><p>I kept thinking, <em>hoping </em>that if I could hold on to the thought of these things long enough to see them again that everything would be fine.</p><p>But now that I’m here, nothing feels right.</p><p>Penny is walking on eggshells around me, and Baz is treating me differently. Which is to say that he’s ignoring my existence rather than trying to make my life a living hell.</p><p>And Agatha, well, I’ve barely seen her, and when I have, she simply looks at me sadly, not really saying anything to me. I can’t tell if I’m relieved by that or not. Would I prefer it if she were fussing over me and making sure I was okay, like one would expect their girlfriend to? I don’t think so. I like that she’s giving me space. To think and try to figure things out.</p><p>All I wanted was to get back here, but now, I’m struggling to find a reason to stay.</p><p>I can’t be inside for long before the walls start to feel like they’re closing in on me and the oxygen is being sucked out of the room and I start to feel like I’m back in that room. That dark room with no windows that I was stuck in for eight weeks.</p><p>I start spending most of my time outside, as much time as possible. In between classes, during meals, after dinner and late into the night. I spend countless hours wandering around the grounds during the first couple of weeks that I’m back, memorizing every dip in the ground and the sound of the frozen ground crunching beneath my feet.</p><p>I don’t even mind the cold. I welcome it in fact. My body tends to run warmer than most, so the way that the cool wind brushes its fingers through my clothes is a nice relief.</p><p>Even as the temperature starts to drop lower and lower, anything is better than that dark room that continues to haunt me every night.</p><p>I wake up every morning—and occasionally the middle of the night—with my heart racing and sweat gluing my shirt to my back, thinking that I’m back there.</p><p>It isn’t until I see Baz’s sleeping form rising and falling a couple of feet away that I start to calm down.</p><p>It is crazy to think that I would be happy to see Baz, but honestly, I’m happy to see anyone after having next to no human contact for so long. I don’t even care about the fact that Baz is a vampire because at least he’s here.</p><p>Unlike the Mage.</p><p>I didn’t see him until my fourth day back, and it was like he hadn’t even noticed that I was gone. I just got frustrated talking to him—or trying to–about what happened to me.</p><p>“Did you even look for me?” I felt like a child asking him that, but it feels awful knowing that no one cared enough about me to even try to look for me.</p><p>“I was very busy, Simon,” he said, pacing over to his office window.</p><p>It was obvious that all he wanted was to get out of there and go back to working on whatever secret scheme he had going at the time.</p><p>I grit my teeth. “With what?”</p><p>“The wars with the Families. They’re keeping me on my toes, trying to remove me from my position, and I am doing everything that I can just to keep them at bay for a while.”</p><p>“Did you at least send someone after me?” I demand.</p><p>He sighed like he was tired of talking to me, like he had much more important things that he could be doing at that moment. (Which apparently he did, since he didn’t even try to find me.)</p><p>“I knew that you would return. You’re strong, my boy.”</p><p>I barely heard his response over the roaring in my ears.</p><p>It was then that I realized that I was truly on my own during those two months. No one was ever going to come for me.</p><p>That knowledge created an empty hollow feeling inside of me, and for the first time in seven years, I felt completely and utterly alone.</p><p>I had already been feeling that nothingness inside of me, but it started to expand and bleed into something new.  A heated anger that I wasn’t sure I could control.</p><p>Everything started to shimmer, and not for the first time in my life, I felt like a bomb about to go off. Only, this time, I didn’t have a clear target to aim at.</p><p>As I felt myself start to heat up, I turned away from the Mage and took off for the Wavering Wood, ignoring his shouts behind me.</p><p>I knew he wouldn’t come after me.</p><p>I kept running through the trees, blinded by the haze that surrounded me, until I knew that I was lost. And then I continued to run, my lungs burning as I struggled to take in air, before I eventually collapsed against the trunk of a large tree.</p><p>I had run off enough energy that I no longer worried that I was about to go off.</p><p>I wanted to cry out of frustration, but the tears wouldn’t come. The emptiness was starting to take over that anger, and all I really felt was tired.</p><p>After a while, I started to think more clearly.</p><p>I could see that I wasn’t really alone; I had Penny. But I began to wonder if that was enough.</p><p>It has been a few weeks since that day, and I’m still not sure if it is.</p><p>Nothing feels like it’s enough anymore.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading! &lt;3</p><p>Come tell me what you think on Tumblr. Main: @angelsfalling16 &amp; sideblog: @carryonsnowbaz</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon reveals to Penny what happened to him while he was missing, but there are some things that are just too difficult to say aloud.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>Since returning to Watford, I have fallen into a pit of anger and isolation. It’s a lot like the way I felt in that room, but it’s more self-imposed now.</p>
<p>Spoken words have always been difficult for me, but recently, it feels like there aren’t any words that I <em>want</em> to say.</p>
<p>From the first day I came to Watford back in first year, the professors have drilled into my head how important words are. They said that if you can find the right words, strung together in just the right way, you can make anything happen. I have always found that immensely hard to believe, though, and it’s especially hard now.</p>
<p>There are no spells and no words in the world that will change the way that I am feeling inside. Nothing will fill that emptiness. Nothing will change the fact that for eleven years of my life, no one wanted me, or the fact that the person who finally came along and changed that no longer seems to care about me. He was too wrapped up in his own problems to come look for me.</p>
<p>There are no words I could say to change that. And even if there were, I doubt anyone would listen to them.</p>
<p>Penny listens. Whenever I do decide to speak, Penny is always there to hear me.</p>
<p>Of course, she has a million questions about where I was for those two months, but she has been waiting patiently (well, as patiently as she can manage) for me to tell her in my own time.</p>
<p>At first, I was hoping that I could keep it all to myself. I just wanted to forget about it and move on with my life. Keep it all inside and act like nothing happened.</p>
<p>I don’t want to tell anyone, and especially not Penny. I don’t want to see the pity in her eyes when she learns that I had been treated worse there than I had in some care homes. (At least I had company in the homes.)</p>
<p>It has been weeks since I returned to Watford, and I am beginning to realize that this isn’t one of those things that I can just elect to not think about. And just because I don’t voice aloud what happened to me, it doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen.</p>
<p>I can’t simply forget about all of the pain and anger that it has caused, and I worry that if I don’t try to do something about it, I’m going to go off. There is no telling what kind of destruction I will cause if I do.</p>
<p>The first step in doing something is telling Penny.</p>
<p>One evening, just as I’m about to head outside to eat my dinner, I ask Penny if she would like to join me.</p>
<p>She frowns at me. “It’s freezing out.”</p>
<p>“I know. I just…” I look off to the side, unable to meet her eyes as I say, “I w-wanted to talk to you ab-bout what happened.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see it dawn on her what I mean, even though she is obviously trying not to react. “Sure. Let’s go.”</p>
<p>She grabs her own plate of food and follows me out to the courtyard.</p>
<p>We sit in silence, and I chew my food slowly as I work up the courage to start this conversation. I am eternally grateful to her for allowing me to take my time.</p>
<p>Finally, I take a deep breath and begin.</p>
<p>Once I start talking, it all comes pouring out of me. It’s like I built up a wall, and the moment I opened my mouth, it came crashing down.</p>
<p>Penny listens without any interruption as I begin with the day I set out to return to Watford for the term. I got all the way to the taxi ride, so close to the school, when things took a turn.</p>
<p>The cab driver abruptly pulled to the side of the road about ten minutes into the ride before turning and pointing an oversized, elaborately detailed key at me, murmuring a spell that immediately paralyzed my entire body.</p>
<p>A few moments later, someone slid into the passenger seat, and another spell was shot at me, apparently knocking me out because all I can remember after that is the room that I was kept in.</p>
<p>I don’t remember much of anything about what the two people looked like, but I do know that they weren’t any of the Mages that I have met before. And I didn’t see them after that.</p>
<p>As I talk, I tell Penny that I was kept in a small, windowless room that was barely big enough to pace in. I was in a place with no magic, and I was deprived of any human contact.</p>
<p>There was only a slot in the door that food was pushed through twice a day – once in what I assumed was the morning and once in the evening – but I refused to eat it, for fear it was poisoned.</p>
<p>I tell her how it was the same thing day after day: food pushed through a slot in the door and me imagining the Mage busting through the door to save me, similar to the way he saved me when I was eleven.</p>
<p>But he never did.</p>
<p>Every day was the same, day after day, until one day something changed.</p>
<p>It began with me jerking awake one night. I wasn’t sure what woke me, but I could have sworn that I felt a wave of something like…magic. It felt like it washed over me, and my eyes flew open, trying to search the dark room for the source of it. But I was still in that room, that familiar feeling of a dead spot still there.</p>
<p>Realizing that I must have dreamt it, I rolled over and went back to sleep.</p>
<p>Some time later, when I woke again, the biggest change was that the door was now cracked open.</p>
<p>I thought that I must still be dreaming, but after rubbing my eyes and even pinching myself, it was still open.</p>
<p>I tread carefully over to it, wondering if it was a trick. Maybe the people who had kidnapped me were finally going to kill me.</p>
<p>I slowly peeked outside and found myself in a wide, open meadow, surrounded by trees. I was currently in a one-room building, and it appeared there was no one else around.</p>
<p>Carefully, I stepped outside, still expecting myself to wake up and find that it was just a dream until I had made it a few paces and hadn’t been forced back into the room.</p>
<p>Then, I began to run for my life.</p>
<p>I don’t remember much about how I got back to Watford, but I know that I didn’t stop moving until I reached the gates.</p>
<p>I tell Penny as much as I can about what I experienced, but there are several details that I decide to leave out.</p>
<p>For instance, I don’t tell her that I screamed for days after the first time I woke up in that room. I screamed and screamed until I couldn’t scream any longer. And once my voice ran out, I attempted to use my hands and feet to try to break free. I kicked and punched until my hands were raw and bloodied and I was too tired to move.</p>
<p>I don’t tell her about how I was afraid to sleep or how I passed out more than once due to sleep deprivation. Neither do I tell her that I began to lose all hope and decided that if I was going to die anyway, I might as well eat the probably poisoned food, thinking that maybe it would bring me a quicker death than starving to death.</p>
<p>I can’t tell her those things.</p>
<p>She would never let me out of her sight again, and I can already see it in her face how worried she is about me, even more so now than when I finally returned.</p>
<p>I can’t let her see how awful I felt—still feel.</p>
<p>“I’m fine,” I tell her, hoping she believes me.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Penny</strong>
</p>
<p>Simon is very much not fine.</p>
<p>He is so bloody far from fine that I’m afraid to take my eyes off of him for fear that he’ll fall apart, and I won’t be there to help put him back together.</p>
<p>Everything that he just told me makes me want to scoop him up and take him far away from here, somewhere that no one can ever hurt him.</p>
<p>He would never go, though. He believes that he has to fulfill that prophecy and save the world. He would never forgive himself if someone got hurt and he thought that there was something he could have done to prevent it.</p>
<p>He has been through all of this pain, and he is still going to prioritize other’s safety over his own. Which leaves me to worry about his safety for him.</p>
<p>And it isn’t only what he just told me that worries me. It is also all of the things that I can tell he isn’t telling me. I’m sure he kept some of the darker details to himself.</p>
<p>I wish that he would tell me so that I could try to find a way to help him, but I won’t push him.</p>
<p>Still, there’s something he said that’s bothering me.</p>
<p>“Wait. You mean the Mage didn’t look for you at all?”</p>
<p>Simon’s expression changes to something so closed off that it reminds me of the way that Baz looks when Simon is pressing him for information about whatever he’s “plotting.”</p>
<p>Before Simon speaks, I already know that I am not going to like the answer.</p>
<p>“No. He didn’t.”</p>
<p>“Why not? He should’ve–”</p>
<p>“I don’t<em> know</em>,” he says gruffly.</p>
<p>I didn’t mean to upset him, so I decide to drop it.</p>
<p>It’s just hard to understand how the Mage could claim someone as his Heir and not even care when they went missing.</p>
<p>Simon won’t look at me as he finishes his food.</p>
<p>I’m glad to see that he’s at least eating. He was so thin when he returned, and I guess now I know why. But he’s been disappearing at mealtimes, and I have been worrying that he still hasn’t been eating enough.</p>
<p>He stands when he’s finished eating, and I spell away our dishes before standing up beside him.</p>
<p>“Simon,” I say softly, but he shakes his head.</p>
<p>“I’m fine,” he says more firmly this time. It’s no more believable than the first time, but I don’t try to press it. He needs time to deal with this on his own, and if I try to push him to talk, I will only drive him away.</p>
<p>All I can do right now is be there for him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>A few days have passed since I told everything to Penny, and while things aren’t exactly better now, it feels good to not be carrying the weight of it alone anymore.</p>
<p>She has been checking on me more than usual, and I appreciate it, but I can’t help wondering if she is just waiting for me to break.</p>
<p>She has started bringing me food and occasionally joining me outside for meals on the days she deems warm enough, and we sit up in the empty watchtower, quietly watching over the school while we eat.</p>
<p>Sometimes, she even joins me on my walks around the grounds, making sure I stay dry when I refuse to come in out of the rain.</p>
<p>There are moments when I find her unrelenting worrying annoying, but I know that she means well, so I allow it.</p>
<p>I still don’t talk much to anyone else. It’s just too much right now.</p>
<p>But this means that I haven’t said more than a handful of words to my girlfriend since I returned.</p>
<p>Penny keeps saying that I just need to get it over with and talk to her, and I know that she’s right; I just need to figure out what to say to her first. She also wants me to ask Agatha about what we saw in the woods last year—Agatha holding hands with my nemesis—but I don’t care about that anymore.</p>
<p>I need to put an end to all of this. I have been letting this relationship drag on for far too long, for a long time after it stopped feeling like a relationship.</p>
<p>It’s just difficult to let her go. I love her, but it isn’t enough. The best thing for the both of us is to let this go so that we can find people we care deeply about to spend our time with instead of hanging on to something that no longer exists.</p>
<p>Agatha and I don’t share very many classes this year, and since I don’t eat in the dining hall, tracking her down proves difficult. But one night, I spot her up on the ramparts, looking ethereal and almost like a ghost, dressed all in white.</p>
<p>Her hair is hanging loose, and the way the wind blows it around creates a ring around her head like a halo.</p>
<p>I walk up the stairs to join her up there, and we stand together in silence for a while, neither of us knowing what to say to the other. Then, I notice that she’s shivering and offer her my coat.</p>
<p>She shakes her head. “I’m fine.”</p>
<p>I’ve already slipped it off, though, so I hold it out to her.</p>
<p>She pushes it away. “Seriously, Simon. I’m good.”</p>
<p>I pull it away, not wanting to fight her on this, and drape it over my arm. We lapse back into silence.</p>
<p>After a moment, I try to place a gentle hand on her back, and she practically jumps away from me, dropping something in the process.</p>
<p>This is another reason that we need to break up. We are always so tense around each other. You should be able to relax around your partner without worrying that you’ll upset them just by moving, but unfortunately, Agatha and I have never been able to do that.</p>
<p>I lean down to pick up the object that she dropped before it blows away. It’s a handkerchief.</p>
<p>“Simon–,” she begins, but it’s too late. I’ve already realized what it is.</p>
<p>I don’t even need to see Baz’s initials embroidered in the corner to recognize it as his, or the Pitch coat of arms beside them (flames, the moon, three falcons). He is the only person I’ve ever met who still carries around handkerchiefs, and I have an identical one shoved away somewhere from the time he dropped it on my bed in first year. The first time he ever made me cry.</p>
<p>I feel that heated anger bubbling up inside of me again, and I’m not sure who I’m angry at in this moment. Agatha, for caring so much about my enemy. Or Baz, for trying so hard to tear Agatha and I apart. Or both of them.</p>
<p>Well, Baz will be pleased to learn that he finally got what he wanted.</p>
<p>“Agatha,” I begin, sure about what I need to do, but my voice is hoarse from disuse, so I clear my throat and try again. “Agatha, I think that we should break up.”</p>
<p>“Because of a handkerchief?” she asks, looking up at me with wide eyes. I notice that she doesn’t appear surprised by my declaration. She probably saw this coming. We have both been putting this off for a long time.</p>
<p>“No. It’s j-just that I think we were better as friends.”</p>
<p>“Okay.”</p>
<p>“Okay?” I ask, surprised by her response. I thought that she would at least try to fight me on this, and honestly, I’m a bit disappointed that she isn’t.</p>
<p>“Yeah. You’re right, Simon. We aren’t a good couple. And this isn’t what I want from life. I want something different.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” I say, not sure that I completely understand what she means. “Alright.” Then, I tell her that I love her because I want her to know that I still care about her. Even if it’s not in the way I thought I did.</p>
<p>“I love you, too, Simon.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Agatha</strong>
</p>
<p>As I walk towards the Cloisters, I start to feel relieved that Simon and I are finally over.</p>
<p>Then, I feel bad for feeling relieved because shouldn’t I be at least a little bit sad about it? I mean, we spent three years being a couple. It should feel awful.</p>
<p>But we were never really a couple, were we?</p>
<p>My relief slowly turns into a feeling of being free, free of the last few strings tethering me to Watford.</p>
<p>I think it’s time for me to go now.</p>
<p>It feels a little wrong to leave when the World of Mages is still in danger, but there will always be something new to threaten us, which is exactly why I want to leave.</p>
<p>I am tired of all the fighting. I’m just not cut out for it.</p>
<p>I continue to my dorm, happy with the knowledge that someday soon, I will be free of this place. I still have a few things to do here, but it’s almost time to go.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading!! I'd love to hear what you think &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Baz is worried about Simon and follows him around to see what's going on, which leads to a tension-filled confrontation.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sorry for being a day late with this chapter. I was really busy yesterday and forgot to post it. The next chapter will still go up on Saturday!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p>
<p>I’m worried about Simon.</p>
<p>You would think that knowing he is safe and back at Watford would make that feeling go away, but it hasn’t.</p>
<p>Something happened to Simon while he was gone, and it has changed him.</p>
<p>He doesn’t seem to be eating or sleeping much, and I noticed that he has been using his magic even less than usual. Which is to say, he isn’t using it at all.</p>
<p>I even heard that he and his girlfriend broke up a couple of days ago. I’m not sure who ended it, but I have noticed that I haven’t seen Wellbelove in a while.</p>
<p>It’s like Simon’s body came back, but Simon himself, the Simon that I have grown up with, didn’t.</p>
<p>I want to figure out what’s going on with him, but I know that he would never talk to me, so I have resorted to following him around.</p>
<p>He doesn’t do much besides walk the grounds, but I know there has to be something that I am missing. So, one evening when I notice him heading off in a different direction than usual, a purposeful look in his eyes, I follow after him, keeping my distance so that he doesn’t notice me tailing him.</p>
<p>Once we reach the Weeping tower, I realize that he is headed up to the Mage’s office. For a brief moment, I consider turning back, but I have done worse things than eavesdrop.</p>
<p>I watch from down the hall as Simon enters the office and wait a beat before moving to the door and casting a spell to allow me to hear through it.</p>
<p>All I hear is silence for several long moments. Then, there’s a loud crash as something hits the ground. The sound is followed by several more crashes that sound like things are being thrown at either the floor or the wall.</p>
<p>I know that I should stay out of whatever it is that is going on in there, but the fear that something might be happening to Simon makes me feel sick. I can’t let him get hurt again.</p>
<p>As my hand lights on the doorknob, I feel the wards part around me, allowing me to enter.</p>
<p>The Mage is too incompetent to have even thought about taking down the wards that my mother cast when she was in charge so that he could keep out those who were given access before he took his position. That, or it never once occurred to him that I would have access to it. Otherwise, I’m sure he would have done everything he could to keep me out.</p>
<p>Either way, I am glad for his oversight because it means that I still have the ability to access one of the last places that I ever saw my mother before she died.</p>
<p>I push the door open, and it is dark inside, the only light coming from the setting sun out the window. With a twist of my wrist, I light a fire in my palm.</p>
<p>The office is exactly the way that I remember it. I used to play here a lot when I was little while my mother worked. She would come get me from the nursery, and we would spend time together.</p>
<p>I hate knowing that the Mage has been in here, touching and messing with it all.</p>
<p>Although, from the looks of the thick layer of dust that coats everything, it doesn’t appear that he spends much time up here.</p>
<p>The biggest, most obvious change is the way that all of the books are scattered about the room: stacked haphazardly on the desk, piled precariously on the floor, and lying sideways on the shelves. My mother never would have left them like this.</p>
<p>I’m still standing in the doorway, and I watch as Simon swipes his arm across the desk, sending books and papers flying across the room.</p>
<p>The Mage is nowhere to be seen. Which is sort of a relief.</p>
<p>Simon has this distant look in his eyes. He’s staring at something on the wall, and he doesn’t notice me when I take a step farther into the room, then another.</p>
<p>I approach him in the way that I have approached countless deer, so as not to spook them. This time, though, I don’t plan to drain my target dry of all of their blood.</p>
<p>“Snow?” I whisper his name, but he still startles, turning an empty glare on me.</p>
<p>“What are you doing here?” he growls.</p>
<p>I keep my cool, taking a couple more steps forward as I say, “Going for a stroll before bed. What are <em>you</em> doing here?”</p>
<p>“That’s none of your business.”</p>
<p>I start to respond, but Simon cuts me off.</p>
<p>He moves so quickly that I once again suspect that he may have been Turned during the time that he was gone.</p>
<p>Before I can even register the fact that he's moved, he’s spun me around and slammed me into one of the bookshelves, knocking the breath from my lungs.</p>
<p>It isn’t easy to catch me off guard, but I hadn’t expected Simon to pounce on me.</p>
<p>He is so close to me now that I can feel his breath ghost across my cheek, and that is when I realize that he’s been crying.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>I came up to the Mage’s office to confront him again, to demand answers about why he didn’t come looking for me and why he simply sent me away for the summer after the Humdrum summoned me away.</p>
<p>I should have been here or wherever it was that the Mage was. I should have been helping him. I shouldn’t have been somewhere that someone could kidnap me.</p>
<p>I know that it is not a smart idea to confront someone when I am boiling over with rage, but I needed answers. I needed to know why all of these horrible things keep happening to me.</p>
<p>I thought that I saw him in the Courtyard earlier today, but of course, he was gone by the time I got up here. </p>
<p>I just got so mad that he wasn’t here, again, and I nearly lost it. I had nowhere to channel my anger except at all of the stuff here.</p>
<p>And then Baz comes strolling in here like he hasn’t got a care in the world, and I just sort of snapped.</p>
<p>He drives me crazy. He used to fight me at every step of the way, reminding me daily—sometimes twice daily—that I am a horrible mage. But ever since I returned to Watford, he’s barely looked at me.</p>
<p>Even now, with my hands pinning him against the bookshelf, he’s keeping that mask of cool indifference on his face. It’s like he doesn’t care anymore. I’m no longer worth his time.</p>
<p>I want to pull some kind of reaction from him. I just need <em>one thing</em> to go back to normal.</p>
<p>I need Baz to continue being my enemy.</p>
<p>He tries half-heartedly to push me away, but I push him more firmly into the shelf, leaning into him until the only thing between us is his hand, holding the bright flame that casts dark shadows across his face as the sun disappears behind the horizon.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p>
<p>Simon presses his body against me, and now I’m breathless for an entirely different reason.</p>
<p>I’m holding the flame up between us, but both of our chests brush against my hand. I should be worried that I might suddenly catch fire and go up in flames, but I wouldn’t mind dying like this, with Simon pressed up against me.</p>
<p>He is standing so close that I would barely have to move to kiss him. Our noses practically brush as we stare into each other’s eyes.</p>
<p>His eyes look empty, though. There is none of his usual fire. None of that fierce determination they used to hold and that I envied him for more than once. All there is is anger.</p>
<p>Simon is standing here in front of me, but he isn’t really <em>here</em>.</p>
<p>
  <em>Where are you, Simon Snow?</em>
</p>
<p>Even though his eyes look empty right now, all I can think about is kissing him.</p>
<p>I don’t care that it is a horrible, horrible idea or that I will likely burn like a piece of paper caught by a cigarette if I get any closer to the fire.</p>
<p>All I can think about is his pink, plump lips, twisted into a frown, just a breath away.</p>
<p>Before I can make the decision to lean forward, though, a book that was apparently knocked askew when Simon slammed into me goes crashing to the ground, breaking through the silence between us.</p>
<p>Simon jumps away from me, and his hand immediately goes to his hip, where his sword sits, invisible.</p>
<p>We both look down to see that something fell out of the book.</p>
<p>Simon dives for it, and I want to do the same, knowing that it may have belonged to my mother, but I lean against the shelf behind me, taking a relaxed stance even though my heart is still pounding from what just almost transpired between us.</p>
<p>Simon straightens up with what appears to be a small photograph held in his hand, and his expression changes as he looks at it, softening somewhat.</p>
<p>“Oh. Sorry. Here.” He pushes the photo into my hands without meeting my eyes before he turns and takes off.</p>
<p>I hold the flame a careful distance away from the photo so that I can get a good look at it without it catching flame.</p>
<p>It’s a picture of me. Just a few years old.</p>
<p>It’s from before I was turned, and I’m surprised by the way my skin looks, reddish gold, a stark contrast to my white collared shirt.</p>
<p>I’m smiling in the picture, a happy carefree child, untouched by loss and despair.</p>
<p>As I stare at the image, my heart aches with wanting to somehow regain that innocence.</p>
<p>It is foolish to wish for that, so I shake my head and push the photograph into my pocket, extinguishing the flame in my hand with a murmured, <strong><em>“Make a wish!”</em></strong></p>
<p>I leave the office, heading to the Catacombs with tears in my eyes, just wanting to be close to my mother.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>After I leave Baz, I head straight for the woods. My feet barely touch the ground as I run across the courtyard, and as I near the moat, it takes me a moment to realize that the drawbridge is up for the night, making it so that no one can go in or out until morning.</p>
<p>I have no way out.</p>
<p>At that realization, my heart starts racing out of my chest, and my throat tightens, making it hard to breathe.</p>
<p>I’m trapped. Again. I keep running until I get to it, and I feel tears burning my eyes, a few possibly slipping down my cheeks. I barely notice them because all I can think about is the tightness in my chest as I struggle to take in air.</p>
<p>I don’t want to be trapped anymore. I want to be free. I want the drawbridge to be open.</p>
<p>I slam my fist into the wood then jump back as it actually begins to lower.</p>
<p>I freeze, waiting for some sort of alarms to be set off. The drawbridge should be warded with heavy magic and shouldn’t fall open just because I hit it and willed it to.</p>
<p>I don’t stop to question it for long, though. I just keep running. Once my feet hit the other side of the drawbridge, it swings back up, shutting me out of Watford.</p>
<p>I wonder for a brief moment if this means I’ll be locked out for the night, but I don’t really care. I just need some time to get away for a bit.</p>
<p>I used to hate being in the woods, but when I got back, anything was better than being in that room. These woods have become more and more comforting, and in a way, they have come to feel like home.</p>
<p>Maybe that’s what I should do. Leave the World of Mages and live out the rest of my days in the woods somewhere. I could build a small cottage somewhere, with lots and lots of windows. Or maybe I could just buy a sleeping bag and sleep out under the stars every night.</p>
<p>At least then if the Humdrum follows me, no one else will get hurt.</p>
<p>I know that I will lose if I face the Humdrum alone, but I always knew that I would go out fighting. It’s better that no one else is around for that explosion. I can’t have anyone getting hurt because I’m not strong enough to protect them.</p>
<p>But I can’t do that yet. I want to stay at Watford. I want to be surrounded by magic for as long as possible.</p>
<p>So, I will stick it out for the rest of the year. Then, when it’s all done, I will go.</p>
<p>It isn’t like anyone will miss me.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading!! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon is suspicious of Baz and starts following him around. Baz reveals something new about the night he was Visited.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>I didn’t get much sleep last night in the woods both because of the cold and because I couldn’t shut my mind off. With nowhere else to go and having left my wand in my room (not that I would have attempted a spell even if I had it), I was left with a lot of time to think.</p>
<p>I couldn’t keep reliving the nothingness of that room I was in, that absolute deprivation of everything, so in trying not to think about that, my thoughts fell to Baz. To the way he has been acting so strangely this year, at least in the weeks I’ve been back.</p>
<p>It has to mean something. Something is definitely going on with him.</p>
<p>Before what happened earlier this year, I would have been on him every possible moment of every day, following him around and interrogating him about what he’s been up to. I would already have multiple theories about what he’s plotting. But instead, I have been allowing myself to wallow in self-pity. I’ve been sulking around, only half the person I used to be. (If even that.)</p>
<p>I have to do something to change that. I need to find a way to feel like myself again. I realize that things will never go back to normal, but I can’t keep acting like the world is ending. Things change, and I am going to have to learn how to adapt to those changes.</p>
<p>Even if it’s difficult, and even if there are bumps along the way.</p>
<p>It’s my duty as the Chosen One or the Power of Powers or whatever it is that people want to call me. If I am expected to save the World of Mages, I have to find a way to move on.</p>
<p>Doing that won’t be easy, so I’m going to start by putting a stop to whatever it is that Baz is doing.</p>
<p>As the sun begins to rise in the morning, I make my way across the lawn, passing by the abandoned, dew-covered pitch on my way to watch the drawbridge rise up.</p>
<p>I run to Mummer’s House so that I can change before breakfast, and I take the stairs up two at a time, feeling strangely energized now that I have some semblance of a plan.</p>
<p>Baz isn’t in the room when I get there, which only raises my suspicions. In the almost seven and a half years that I have known him, there have only been a few times that he has gotten up before sunrise. Which means that he either stayed out all night working on his nefarious plan, or he got up early to get a jump start on it.</p>
<p>Either way, it doesn’t sound good. I have to figure out what he’s up to.</p>
<p>I spend the next several days following Baz wherever he goes. He spends the majority of his free time in the library where he sits alone in a corner, flipping through a large stack of books for hours upon hours.</p>
<p>The worst thing I’ve seen him do is leave the library with several books that he hasn’t properly checked out.</p>
<p>When he’s not in the library, he’s down in the Catacombs, but I don’t follow him down there. I did that for a year, and nothing interesting ever happened. (But I am still certain that he is a vampire.) I haven’t been back down there since fifth year, though, and right now, just thinking about going somewhere cramped and dark sends my heart racing, making it difficult to get a lungful of air.</p>
<p>I try to recruit Penny to help me figure out what’s going on with Baz, but she does her usual headshake and eyeroll, refusing my request without having to say a word. Ever since fifth year, she’ll no longer go along with me when I follow Baz. Not even when I’m <em>sure</em> that he is planning something. (And I was right in fifth year. He <em>was</em> up to something.)</p>
<p>So, I’m on my own with Baz, and Penny has let up on her guard watch, apparently having finally decided that I’m not going to suddenly disappear if she looks away.</p>
<p>It has been nice to see that at least one person cares whether I’m around, and I love her, but honestly, it was starting to drive me a bit mad. I couldn’t even cough without her hounding me with a bunch of questions about how I’m feeling.</p>
<p>I continue watching Baz on my own, but still, nothing seems to be out of the ordinary. He goes to class, to meals, the library, the Catacombs, and our room. He appears to have the most boring schedule of anyone at this school. Even Penny manages to find time to have fun between classes and studying.</p>
<p>Certain that there must be something that I’m not seeing, I start following him a little closer, taking a better look at everything that he’s doing.</p>
<p>It’s on the fifth day of following him that I finally find something.</p>
<p>Baz is studying in the library like he does pretty much every evening, but as I watch him from between the stacks, I take notice of what it is that he’s been reading.</p>
<p>We share most of our classes, so I know that the books that Baz has been pouring over for the past several nights have nothing to do with any of our current assignments</p>
<p>Some of the books are nearly three inches thick, and the title on one of the spines is written in German. (Of course Baz knows German. He already knows at least three other languages, so why not German?)</p>
<p>I watch him for a while, trying to come up with a way to get a better look at what he’s writing when he stands and walks away from his things to go in search of another book on the other side of the library.</p>
<p>I wait a moment to make sure that he isn’t going to come right back before I hurry over to the table he was working at.</p>
<p>I was right about none of the books being from any of our classes, but what really interests me is the notebook he’s been writing in.</p>
<p>I flip through a couple of the pages, skimming over what Baz has written there in his irritatingly neat cursive. His notes are immaculate and exceedingly organized. There are lists and notes broken into columns. A few things have been crossed out, and there are a lot of questions. Questions that Baz seems to be struggling to find the answers to.</p>
<p>And it all seems to be color-coded.</p>
<p>If Baz can’t find the answers, then whatever it is that he’s researching must be deeply complex because he always has an answer for everything. (Even if it’s a sarcastic answer.)</p>
<p>“You would make a terrible spy,” a low voice says behind me.</p>
<p>I jump and try my best not to look guilty as I turn to face Baz’s sneer. His arms are crossed and both brows are raised, yet he doesn’t seem mad.</p>
<p>What will it take to get a stronger reaction out of him than impassivity?</p>
<p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.</p>
<p>“You were sneakier in fifth year. I know that you have been following me all week. I caught on when you kept coming into the library and didn’t even pretend to be studying.</p>
<p>I shrug. “Doesn’t matter. I know you’re plotting something.”</p>
<p>Baz’s eyeroll could rival Penny’s.</p>
<p>“And what exactly might I be plotting?”</p>
<p>“Murder,” I say seriously, and Baz has the audacity to look <em>amused</em>. I don’t let it phase me, though. “It’s obvious from your notes that you’re trying to figure out how to kill someone. You’re even trying to find someone to do the dirty work for you. Someone named Nicodemus.”</p>
<p>Baz shakes his head, looking only slightly less amused. “Do you really want to know what I’m working on?”</p>
<p>“Yes. And I <em>will</em> figure it out. Even if I have to follow you around for the rest of the year.”</p>
<p>“No need. I’ll tell you.” He pauses to glance around the library. “But let’s go to our room.”</p>
<p>“W-what?” I ask, stunned. “You’re just going to tell me?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” he says with a nod as he steps around me and begins gathering his things.</p>
<p>“How do I know that this isn’t a trap? How do I know you aren’t going to attack me from behind on the way there?”</p>
<p>“I’ll walk in front of you. And you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” He shrugs as he pushes his things into his bag. “It’s your choice.”</p>
<p>“No. I’m coming.”</p>
<p>“Alright. Let’s go then.”</p>
<p>I wait for him to head for the door then follow after him, still wondering if this is a trap, a way for him to throw me off his trail.</p>
<p>I should proceed more cautiously than I am, but I let my curiosity get the best of me and hurry to match the quick pace he sets.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p>
<p>I could have let Simon continue to follow me around like a lost little puppy, but I decided to take pity on him and let him catch up to me for once. He was never going to figure anything out otherwise. He has never been good at sneaking around. He’s a bumbling idiot who bumps into things and knocks them over just walking down the hall (and this includes people.)</p>
<p>He may be a gorgeous idiot, but he’s still an idiot.</p>
<p>I easily could have hidden my research, and he never would have known a thing about it, but if I’m being truthful, I have been dying to talk to someone about everything that is going on.</p>
<p>I was thinking about telling Dev and Niall about the Visiting and what my mother said to me, but I know that if I did, they would look at me with pity in their eyes and worry more about my mental state than about who killed my mother.</p>
<p>I need someone who doesn’t care about me or my feelings, someone who can look at it objectively.</p>
<p>I need Simon.</p>
<p>Which is why I am currently lugging all of my research up to our room so that I can share it with him.</p>
<p>He’s still looking at me suspiciously when we reach the top of the tower, but he sits quietly on the edge of his bed and doesn’t interrupt me while I pace back and forth across the room, unable to meet his eyes as I tell him about the Visiting.</p>
<p>Before I can begin to tell him what I have learned so far from my research (which isn’t much), he has a question.</p>
<p>“What exactly is a ‘visiting’? Is that like when someone sees a ghost? Are you trying to tell me that you see dead people?”</p>
<p>I am about to punch him – screw the Anathema – thinking that he’s taking the piss, making a stupid joke about my mother’s death, but then I remember that he didn’t grow up in the World of Mages like the rest of us. He honestly has no idea what I’m talking about.</p>
<p>I sigh and start explaining it to him in a way that I hope will make things seem a little clearer. I’m pretty sure we learned about this in class, but I’m not surprised he wasn’t paying attention.</p>
<p>“The Veil is lifting. It only lifts every twenty years, and it allows people who have died to cross over and talk to the living. But they can only come back if they have something important that needs to be said, something like justice that needs to be served.” Like with my mother coming to tell me to find her murderer.</p>
<p>“Alright,” he says slowly once I’ve finished speaking. “I think I understand. So, what have you found out so far?”</p>
<p>“Not much,” I admit, running my fingers over the spine of my notebook. “There is no mention of anyone named Nicodemus in any of the Records or any of the other books that I have searched through. It’s like he doesn’t exist.” I pause for a moment, watching his expression, before I say, “So, that’s all there is. That’s all I know. You can stop following me now.”</p>
<p>I turn away, hoping that I have put an end to his incessant meddling, and I almost feel a little bit relieved after finally sharing this with someone else. I start loosening my tie, trying to ignore the heat of Simon’s gaze on my back as I start to prepare for bed.</p>
<p>I’m about to slip off my blazer when he speaks.</p>
<p>“I’ll help you find them.”</p>
<p>I frown at him over my shoulder. “What?”</p>
<p>“I’ll help you find the person who killed your mother.”</p>
<p>“Why?” I ask, turning to look at him full-on. “Why would you want to help me?”</p>
<p>“So that you can get justice. I believe that anyone who has harmed another person that badly should be brought to justice.”</p>
<p>I stare at him for a long moment, trying to figure out why he would do something that could even be considered as helping me, then I decide that it doesn’t really matter why he’s doing this because I could use some help with this even if that help does come from him.</p>
<p>“Fine. We can start tomorrow after classes have finished for the day.”</p>
<p>I turn away from him again to grab some pyjamas from my wardrobe, and just as I’m about to close the door to the en suite, I hear him murmuring something about having a reason to stay.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>When I walk out of the en suite the next morning, ready to head down to breakfast, Baz is sitting up in bed, apparently waiting for me because I have barely slipped one of my shoes on before he starts in.</p>
<p>“You’re not getting off.”</p>
<p>“I--. What?” I frown at him, wondering if I somehow missed the beginning of this conversation.</p>
<p>It wouldn’t be the first time. I have this bad habit of only half-listening to people when they’re talking to me and then tuning in halfway through what they’re saying and feeling completely lost. I’m pretty sure Baz didn’t say anything else, though.</p>
<p>“You don’t get to pretend like last night didn’t happen.”</p>
<p>“I don’t want to do that,” I tell him, only slightly less confused.</p>
<p>“Good. Because you are going to help me avenge my mother’s death.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t say anything about <em>avenging</em>. I said I’d help you find her murderer.”</p>
<p>“Fine. That’s still helping me.”</p>
<p>He has this threatening tone in his voice, but it doesn’t scare me. Baz doesn’t scare me as much as he did during our first couple years of school because he hasn’t actually tried to kill me in a few years. He’s mostly all talk and no bite now.</p>
<p>But that reminds me of something.</p>
<p>“How are we going to do this when we can’t get along? How do I know you aren’t planning to push me down the stairs as soon as I turn my back?”</p>
<p>He rolls his eyes and slips out of bed so that he is now towering over me as he says, “I promise not to push you down any stairs until we find the person who killed my mother.”</p>
<p>As I look up at him, I notice that his clothes are unwrinkled, and his hair is somehow perfect even though he literally just rolled out of bed, the git.</p>
<p>“And I’m supposed to just take you at your word?”</p>
<p>“I’m asking you for your help – something I have never wanted to have to do. Do you really think I’m going to hurt you?”</p>
<p>“Swear it. Swear that you won’t try to hurt me.” I reach for my wand then hesitate.</p>
<p>I still carry it around with me, but I haven’t used it much since I returned. I only use it when I absolutely have to for class, and even then, I sometimes only pretend to be working on the spells because I’m worried that I will lose control of my wild magic and accidentally hurt someone.</p>
<p>Baz watches me for a moment before reaching to grab his own wand off his nightstand.</p>
<p>“I’ll do it,” he says. “Can’t have you blowing my hand off.”</p>
<p>He grabs my hand, and I want to jerk it back, but I hold my ground, clenching my jaw.</p>
<p>“Truce,” he says, meeting my eyes with a strangely intense gaze.</p>
<p>“Truce,” I repeat, my throat suddenly dry.</p>
<p>“Until we know the truth.”</p>
<p>I nod, and we continue staring at each other for what feels like several long minutes but is really only a few seconds, and I am reminded of that weird feeling that passed between us when I had him pinned against a bookshelf that night in the Mage’s office.</p>
<p>I swallow noisily, suddenly nervous and acutely aware of the way my palm is beginning to sweat, and I hope he doesn’t notice.</p>
<p>After what feels like forever, he taps our joined hands with his wand and says, <strong><em>“An Englishman’s word is his bond!”</em></strong></p>
<p>His magic seeps into my hand, and it burns. His magic feels like fire ants crawling over and under my skin, and when he lets go of my hand, I have to resist the urge to shake it out.</p>
<p>We’ve just taken an oath. I’ve never done that before, but it feels deeply serious, like I have just done something life changing. I’m just not sure yet how exactly it will change my life.</p>
<p>“See you after class,” I say, ready to make a run for the door, but before I can reach for the doorknob, he stops me.</p>
<p>“Snow, wait.” His voice is so unusually soft that it stops me in my tracks.</p>
<p>I slowly turn to face him. “Yeah?”</p>
<p>“There’s something I didn’t tell you. About the night that I was Visited.”</p>
<p>“What is it?” I ask, a little worried by how serious his tone is.</p>
<p>“Someone else came that night, and—. And I think maybe it was your mother.”</p>
<p>“What? Wh-why would you think that?”</p>
<p>“She kept saying ‘my rosebud boy’, and I know it wasn’t my mother, so who else could it be? Plus, she reminded me a bit of you with her blond hair and blue eyes and soft features.”</p>
<p>“What else did she say?” I ask, my voice strained. I’m not sure if I believe him, but why would he make something like this up?</p>
<p>“Not much. It was like she was fading away. I’ve heard of it happening before. Some ghosts have a hard time staying around.”</p>
<p>I’m quiet for a moment, and when I speak, my voice is a whisper. “You really think it was her?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” he says quietly but firmly. “I do.”</p>
<p>“Okay.” I nod because I’m not sure what else to do.</p>
<p>I leave the room then, lost in my thoughts as I make my way towards the Woods, no longer hungry.</p>
<p>Baz is probably wrong. My mom abandoned me when I was born. Why would she come looking for me?</p>
<p>But maybe…maybe she didn’t have a choice. Maybe she didn’t <em>want</em> to leave me.</p>
<p>It almost makes me hopeful. Even though it would mean that she’s dead, not out there missing me like I wanted to believe when I was younger, it might also mean that she didn’t abandon me.</p>
<p>And maybe I really do belong in the World of Mages.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading!! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon and Baz's truce gets off to a rocky start, and a dragon attacks Watford.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p><p>I don’t know why I actually believed that Simon and I would be able to work together.</p><p>I suppose I just hoped that it would work. I wanted to know if there was a way for the two of us to get on together. It doesn’t take long for me to see that no, it is not possible.</p><p>I’m ready for him after class, armed with a chalkboard, a pot of tea, and some snacks. (Merlin knows he can’t work unless he is stuffing his face.)</p><p>The look on his face when he unwraps the bacon roll is pleased and grateful that it feels wrong that it’s in response to something I have done.</p><p>I watch him as he tears off a piece before popping it into his mouth, his fingers dragging over his lips in a way that has my heart beating faster and my breath catching in my throat.</p><p>Tearing my eyes away from his mouth, I ask, “Where’s Bunce?”</p><p>He shrugs. “The dining hall probably. Why?”</p><p>“Oh, I thought she would be here. You two do everything together, don’t you?”</p><p>He shrugs again, not looking at me, too busy chowing down on his food. “She doesn’t know about any of this.”</p><p>“You didn’t tell her?” I ask, surprised.</p><p>“No,” he says, taking another bite of food.</p><p>“Why not? I thought you told her everything.”</p><p>“This just…seemed like your business. I didn’t think you would want me to tell her.”</p><p>“It <em>is</em> my business. But I was counting on her telling us where to start.”</p><p>Simon wipes his hands on his pants without any care, having already finished the bacon roll, before saying, “Let’s start with what we know. Everything you talked to me about last night.”</p><p>I begrudgingly admit that it’s a good idea and carefully pick out a piece of white chalk from my book bag.</p><p>I hesitate for a moment before turning and writing <em>Nicodemus</em> on the chalkboard.</p><p>“That’s what we don’t know,” Simon says, and I once again had to admit that he’s right.</p><p>I have searched through countless books and have not been able to find any mention of him anywhere.</p><p>I don’t respond to Simon, instead writing a date below the name.</p><p>
  <em>12 August 2002</em>
</p><p>The day Watford was attacked.</p><p>The day my mother died.</p><p>“Do you remember anything about that day?” Simon asks quietly.</p><p>I squeeze my eyes shut briefly, tightening my grip on the chalk in my hand, surprised when it doesn’t snap in half.</p><p>“Some,” I say, glancing at him briefly. But I’m not going to share any of that with him.</p><p>I continue writing on the board, taking a deep breath before adding:</p><p>
  <em>Vampires</em>
</p><p>
  <em>On a mission from the humdrum</em>
</p><p>
  <em>One fatality</em>
</p><p>Of course, Simon has to contradict me again, pointing out that there was more than one fatality. My mother took out a lot, if not all of those vampires that attacked that day.</p><p>Then, I reluctantly answer Simon’s questions about vampire attacks, gritting my teeth when he asks how much my father and I discuss the habits of Vampires, as if he thinks it’s something we just sit around talking about all summer long.</p><p>When he starts asking whether vampires can really turn into bats, I decide that I have had enough of this inane conversation and turned back to the board, writing down <em>Vampires: Food for thought</em>.</p><p>A moment later, I heard him moving closer to me.</p><p>I glance over to find him holding a book out towards me as he says, “I looked up the coverage of the attack during lunch.”</p><p>I turn to face him more fully to get a better look at the page he’s showing me. My mother’s portrait takes up half the page, alongside a picture of the nursery, showing the effects of the fire that was set there, sitting just above the headline:</p><p>
  <strong>VAMPIRES IN THE NURSERY</strong>
</p><p>“I’ve never seen this before,” I say quietly, taking the book from him.</p><p>During the research that I’ve done, I wasn’t interested in finding out more about that day – I lived it, after all – so I didn’t think to look it up.</p><p>I take a seat in the chair closest to me, which happens to be Simon’s desk chair, and start reading the article aloud.</p><p>I expect it to just tell me everything that I already know, but right off the bat, there is new information that I definitely did not know.</p><p>My mother was bitten during the attack.</p><p>She was bitten, and she killed herself for it in an attempt to save me.</p><p>My hands shake as I pause in my reading, which allows Simon the opportunity to ask about the spell she cast that day, and for a brief moment, I think it might kill me to tell him. But I manage it.</p><p>My mother killed herself to keep from becoming a vampire, which means she likely would have killed me if she were here.</p><p>I feel Simon’s hand pat my shoulder in what is probably meant to be a comforting gesture, but I barely feel it, a little lost in the realization of what my mother did.</p><p>Simon carefully takes the book from my hands and continues reading from where I left off.</p><p>I barely hear him over the ringing in my ears. I stare hard at the ground, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to hold myself together as I go over the first half of the article again and again in my head.</p><p><em>I’m a monster</em>, I think.</p><p>I always knew that, but it is an entirely different think knowing what your deceased mother would think of you.</p><p>I feel Simon’s hand on my shoulder again, breaking me from the trance, and he leaves it there this time.</p><p>“It’s okay,” he says quietly.</p><p>I laugh, darkly. “That’s the one thing it isn’t.”</p><p>Nothing is okay.</p><p>I’m not okay, and Simon obviously isn’t okay after whatever happened to him.</p><p>“No, I mean, it’s okay that you’re not okay. Whatever you’re feeling is okay.”</p><p>I stand up then, shaking him off of me. “Is that what you tell yourself? You blow up the grounds or disappear for two months, and you tell yourself that it’s okay? Because it’s not. It is <em>not </em>okay. You won’t be okay, will you, Snow? You’re not okay now, are you?’</p><p>He takes a step back like I’ve just hit him. “We’re not talking about me.”</p><p>“Everything is about you. Even when it isn’t.” The whole bloody world seems to revolve around him. My world, at least. Even when I wish it didn’t.</p><p>Simon opens his mouth to fight back before promptly snapping it shut. He tosses the book onto desk then turns and storms out the door, slamming it behind him.</p><p>I collapse back into the chair and let my head fall into my hands, and I don’t move for a long time.</p><p>In hindsight, I could have been nicer to him.</p><p>It isn’t his fault that I’m upset, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on him. And it definitely wasn’t my place to bring up the time that he was missing when I have no idea what happened to him.</p><p>I’m an idiot.</p><p>Simon was just trying to be nice, and I tore into him. It’s no wonder that he hates me.</p><p>There’s no use worrying about that now, though. What’s done is done.</p><p>Through the open windows, I hear screams, and at first, I write them off, but they grow louder, and more intense. It sounds like something bad is happening outside. (And I have no doubt that Simon must be at least a little bit responsible.)</p><p>I hurry over to the window to get a look at what’s going on, and the first thing I see is a dragon.</p><p>From up here, I can see Simon standing in front of the dragon, waving his sword around while Bunce appears to be trying to keep back the rest of the school.</p><p>Simon takes a swing at the dragon, and I know have to stop him before he kills it. Who knows what kind of darkness that will bring upon him? Not even my family would dare kill a dragon. It brings all kinds of bad luck and misfortune to you if you do.</p><p>The dragon is harmless anyway. I can’t let Simon hurt it. I have to do something.</p><p>I briefly consider taking the stairs down, but that will take long. By the time I make it out of Mummers House, Simon could have already killed the dragon. That only leaves me with one other choice.</p><p>Climbing carefully out of our window, I try not to think about the merwolf-infested waters below me. I would hate to fall and have to be anywhere near those disgusting creatures right now.</p><p>Steadying myself, I take a leap from our window to the ramparts. The landing is only slightly jarring thanks to the fact that my vampire body can take a little more. (This is one of the very few times I have ever been thankful to be a vampire.)</p><p>As I race across the ramparts, I see Simon stab the dragon in the neck with his sword and then get pulled up into the air with it.</p><p>I call out to him, but I’m still too far away. He doesn’t hear me. I have to get to him.</p><p>I pick up my pace, for once grateful for my superior vampire abilities. I’ve almost made it to Simon when he tries to yank the sword out of the dragon’s neck. I call out to him again, and this time, he looks up at me.</p><p>“Simon! Don’t hurt it!”</p><p>He ignores me and goes back to yanking on the sword.</p><p>“Simon!” I cry out again. “Stop! They are not dark creatures!”</p><p>I’m at the end of the ramparts now, but I don’t stop running. I leap up on the wall, then without really thinking about it, I cast <strong><em>“Float like a butterfly!”</em></strong> and jump off the wall, floating gracefully towards the ground.</p><p>All I can think about right now is getting to Simon to save him from both the dragon and himself.</p><p>Simon turns to watch me as I float to the ground, and it’s a little strange to see everyone looking at the dragon while Simon only has eyes for me. I might think that his gaze was admiring if I didn’t know better. (But I do know better.)</p><p>I land softly on the ground a few feet away from the dragon and instantly start running again, raising my wand and pointing it up at the creature.</p><p>“Baz, no!” Simon yells from above me. “You’re flammable!”</p><p>Why does he care? He should be glad that he might finally get rid of me.</p><p>I don’t care if I go up in flames as long as I keep Simon and the rest of the school safe.</p><p>“So is everything!” I shout back.</p><p>
  <em>“Baz!”</em>
</p><p>I almost stop at the desperation in his tone, but I choose to ignore him, channeling all of my focus into the spell as I begin casting:</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>“Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home, your house is on fire, and your children are gone. Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home, your house is on fire, and your children shall burn. All except one, and her name is Nan, and she hid under the pourridge pan.”</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>It’s a nursery rhyme, but there is no spell that is more powerful than a nursery rhyme. It is repeated to children over and over, and then they grow up saying it to others. They are the most repeated, longest lasting phrases.</p><p>If you find the right one and are powerful enough, you could pretty much do anything.</p><p>I continue reciting the rhyme, but the dragon doesn’t budge. It is simply entranced, watching me curiously.</p><p>I am fully aware of how easy it would be for the dragon to kill me, but I also know that I am currently the only thing standing between the dragon and the school.</p><p>My mother was once in this same position. She was willing to give her life to protect all of the kids in the nursery that day, and I am willing to do the same to protect all of the kids at this school.</p><p>I will do whatever I have to in order to accomplish that, even if I wind up dead, just like my mother did.</p><p>I know that my magic alone won’t be enough – I’m not that strong – but I will keep going for as long as I can.</p><p>Simon slides down from the dragon’s neck, and I feel a wave of relief to see him moving closer to safety.</p><p>Marginally less worried about Simon, I block everything else around me out, and my vision narrows down to just the dragon and the spell.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>“Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home, your house is on fire, and your children shall burn. All except one, and her name is Aileen, and she hid under a soup tureen.”</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>It is taking all of my energy and concentration to cast the spell, which is why I don’t notice Simon moving closer until his hand grips my shoulder, grounding me and steadying me.</p><p>As I cast a few more lines, the dragon starts to grow restless, looking behind it like it’s ready to go, but I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up. As my entire arms starts shaking, I begin to worry that I might pass out. Or run out of magic. But I force myself to keep going.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>“Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home, your house is on fire, and your children shall burn.”</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Just when I am sure that my arm is going to give out, that I’ll collapse right here and fail to save anyone, I feel something like a warm shock to my system shoot through my body, starting at my shoulder and spilling out of my wand, mixing and intertwining with my magic.</p><p>It feels like it awakens me, strengthens me, and gives me exactly what I need to finish the rhyme.</p><p>It takes me a moment to figure out that Simon is the source of the feeling.</p><p>Somehow, he is pushing his magic into me, sharing it with me.</p><p>His magic is sharp but warm, making my skin tingle with the feeling of it.</p><p>I feel a renewal of strength as his magic rushes through me.</p><p><strong><em>“Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home!”</em></strong> I shout, and it comes out more powerful than before.</p><p>The push of Simon’s magic slows into a steady stream, allowing me to take what I need from him.</p><p>It changes from something electric to a warm feeling, like tea with honey or even like sunshine soaking into my skin.</p><p>Of course, Simon’s magic would feel like that. Because Simon is the bloody sun, and my word revolves around him.</p><p>With his help, I am able to finish the rhyme, and I watch as the dragon flies away until it is just a spot on the sky. Then, I turn to the school and undo the spell that Simon cast, releasing them from his thrall.</p><p>Lowering my wand, I take a step away from Simon, his hand falling away from my shoulder, and turn to face him, checking him for any bodily injuries. Fortunately, he appears to be fine.</p><p>“Why did you help me?” Simon asks, his expression awe-struck and almost…grateful.</p><p>I can still feel the remnants of his magic, and it makes me feel good. So good that I want to celebrate by doing something stupid with Simon.</p><p>I hold myself back, though, shaking my head and forcing my eyes back up to his as I say, “The truce. And I wasn’t helping <em>you</em>, pre se. I was helping the dragon.”</p><p>It isn’t a complete lie. Simon would have killed it if I hadn’t stopped him.</p><p>“It was attacking the school,” Simon says defensively.</p><p>“She didn’t want to. Dragons only attack if they feel threatened.”</p><p>Simon looks like he is going to protest more, but Bunce slams into him at that moment, nearly knocking him off his feet.</p><p>“Show me,” she says, grabbing Simon’s hand and placing it on her shoulder.</p><p>Simon pushes her hand away, but Bunce is persistent. “I saw you do it. When did you learn how to do that?”</p><p>“Stop,” Simon says so forcefully that I’m surprised that it isn’t imbued with some kind of magic.</p><p>He glances around at all of the students who are still milling about who are not so surreptitiously watching the three of us.</p><p>He lowers his voice as he says, “I was just giving him moral support.”</p><p><em>Was</em> that all he was doing?</p><p>I know that I didn’t imagine his magic washing through me, but is it possible that he didn’t realize what he was doing?</p><p>I want to say something, to ask him about it, but Miss Possibelf comes over to us at that moment to talk.</p><p>Once she has gone again, Simon turns to look towards the school and gets distracted by something he sees, so I turn my attention to Bunce.</p><p>“Snow and I were working on something that might be best aided by your expertise,” I say. “I was wondering if you would be willing to come help us.”</p><p>I hear Simon make a quiet sound of surprise, but I ignore him, focusing my attention on Bunce’s response.</p><p>“What exactly are you two working on?” She asks, and I can see a bit of curiosity mixed in with her suspicion.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading!! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon and Baz bring Penny into the loop.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Simon</b>
</p><p>I’m lounging on my bed as I listen to Baz catch Penny up on everything, telling her about the visiting and everything that we know so far. I don't say much, but I notice that Baz doesn’t tell her anything about thinking he saw my mother. Truthfully, I am grateful for that because I don’t think that I’m ready to talk about it yet.</p><p>“You’re working with Baz!” Penny shouts once Baz is done filling her in. “And you didn’t tell me!” She turns to face me, hands on her hips and expression accusatory.</p><p>I shrug. “You don’t like when I talk about him.”</p><p>She sighs, exasperated. “That has never stopped you before.”</p><p>I glance at Baz whose eyebrows are raised and whose mouth is curved up into an amused expression. I can only imagine what he must think about that.</p><p>I quickly look away from him, and say to Penny, “It wasn’t my place to tell you. It’s <em> his </em> mother.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Baz says, interrupting us. “I’m telling you now, and Simon only found out last night.”</p><p>“Fine. But since when are you able to just give your magic away, charging people up like they’re batteries?”</p><p>“I am <em> not </em> a battery,” Baz sneers, falling back onto his bed.</p><p>“I didn’t know I could do that,” I tell Penny. “It’s not like I’ve ever tried it before.”</p><p>“Try it now,” she says, flopping down on my bed beside me.</p><p>I shake my head. “No.”</p><p>I still don’t trust my magic right now. I’m not sure how I managed to do it the first time, and I am amazed that it didn’t backfire and that I didn’t unintentionally hurt Baz.</p><p>“Imagine what the Mage will do when he finds out what you can do,” Baz sneers. “Maybe you’re more than just a bomb. You could power several bombs all on your own.”</p><p>I ignore him the way I usually do when he brings up the Mage and push Penny’s hand away again.</p><p>“I’m not doing it again. I might hurt someone.”</p><p>“You weren’t worried about hurting me?” Baz asks, feigning a wounded tone.</p><p>“I wasn’t thinking about it when I did it with you. I just did it.”</p><p>If I had been thinking about how I might hurt him, I wouldn’t have risked it, and that is a weird realization. I have never cared about hurting him before.</p><p>
  <em> What changed? </em>
</p><p>Baz looks annoyed and personally affronted by my response and slips off his bed, heading over to the chalkboard.</p><p>Penny, finally letting go of the magic-sharing thing, follows him over to the board, and they begin talking about the Visiting and Baz’s mother. I remain on the bed for now, wondering how they can slip into something so easily. They are able to just have a simple conversation with no arguments while Baz and I couldn’t do it for more than twenty minutes without it turning into an argument.</p><p>Thinking about this creates a strange feeling in my chest, something like jealousy, but I am definitely not jealous. Why would I be jealous of them? They’re just working together.</p><p>We end up working all evening, and we send Baz down to get us dinner while Penny adds to the chalkboard in green chalk.</p><p>When Baz sees it, he looks annoyed, probably because her handwriting isn’t as neat as his.</p><p>Penny brings up the vampires, which of course turns into an argument as Baz tries to avoid talking about them.</p><p>I mostly tune them out until they start talking about the Humdrum. Baz is saying something about me.</p><p>“Wait, what?” I ask, and both of them roll their eyes. It’s a full-on affront, simply because I wasn’t listening to them.</p><p>“I think that the Humdrum attacks are related to your presence,” Baz repeats.</p><p>“What makes you think that?”</p><p>“Did you notice that the Humdrum only attacks when <em> you’re </em> here?”</p><p>“Yeah, but only because I’m always here.”</p><p>“Not during the first two months of school. We were Humdrum free for that entire time, but as soon as you return, the school is attacked by a dragon.”</p><p>“That could merely be a coincidence.”</p><p>“What are you saying?” Penny asks Baz.</p><p>“I’m saying that there has to be a reason the Humdrum keeps going after Snow. It’s more than just a coincidence.”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s because I’m the Chosen One.”</p><p>“Do you really think the Humdrum cares about that?”</p><p>“Why else would he come after me specifically?”</p><p>“That is exactly my point.”</p><p>I frown, still not getting it, and he sighs.</p><p>“When did the first dead zone appear?”</p><p>"July 2015,” Penny says without missing a beat. Baz looks impressed, but Penny merely shrugs. “My dad has the dates all mapped out, and I’ve been studying it for years.”</p><p>“Right, so that was about the time Simon would have been born, right?”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>“<em> So </em>. That can’t be just a coincidence. There has to be more to it.”</p><p>“I refuse to believe that. Why would the Humdrum appear when I was born?”</p><p>“You don’t have to believe me because—.”</p><p>“Because you’re right?” I finish for him.</p><p>He shrugs, an annoying smirk on his face. “It didn’t appear when you were born. The Dead Zones did. The Humdrum didn’t appear until years later.”</p><p>“How do you know all of this?”</p><p>“Because I pay attention. Unlike you.”</p><p>“He’s right,” Penny says, and I feel a little bit betrayed.</p><p>“The Humdrum didn’t appear until much later, around the time that we came to Watford. When you were brought into the World of Mages.”</p><p>“That doesn’t make any sense,” I argue.</p><p>“It does actually. <em> If </em> the Humdrum attacks are related to you and your magic.”</p><p>“Yes!” Baz says excitedly, and it’s the most emotion I’ve seen out of him since I’ve returned. I just wish it wasn’t caused by him accusing me somehow causing the Humdrum attacks.</p><p>I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this, and honestly, it’s a little scary.</p><p>“The Humdrum is related to your magic, and so are the holes.” He pauses briefly then starts talking faster, like he’s afraid that I will interrupt him again. “The holes appeared when you were born, but they got worse when you started using your magic. They got bigger and multiplied. It’s like whenever you use your magic too much – when you go off – they appear.”</p><p>“So, you’re saying…” Penny says slowly, and Baz nods at her encouragingly. “That when Simon goes off, he doesn’t just have that magic… He’s sucking it up, pulling it from places.”</p><p>“Exactly!”</p><p>“Wait!” I have to yell to be heard over them. “I don’t understand. Are you saying that I’m the Humdrum? That I’m stealing magic?”</p><p>“No, Simon. We’re saying that you created it. On <em> accident </em>,” she adds before I can protest. “You can’t control it, but when you use your magic, you use too much, and the magickal atmosphere can’t handle it. It creates holes – dead zones.”</p><p>“Right. And what do holes want?” Baz asks.</p><p>It sounds like a ridiculous question, but then again, everything they’ve said over the past few minutes has sounded ridiculous.</p><p>“To be filled?” I say, still not really understanding any of this. None of this makes sense. I can’t be the thing taking magic from the world. I’m supposed to be protecting it.</p><p>“No,” Baz says. “It wants to grow. Just like everything else, the Humdrum wants to grow, and in order to do that, it needs you to go off.”</p><p>“Which is why it keeps attacking you!” Penny says as if this were yet another ‘aha!’ moment. “the Humdrum wants you to go off, wants you to use up the magic.”</p><p>“That doesn’t make sense.”</p><p>“Simon,” Penny says softly, moving closer to me. “You’re too powerful. You use up the magic, and the Humdrum grows. It isn’t your fault, though. You can’t control it.”</p><p>Is this supposed to make me feel better? Knowing that I am the reason the world is running out of magic?</p><p>I shake my head at them. I don’t want to think about this anymore.</p><p>“I thought we were trying to find Baz’s mum’s murder. Not learn more about the Humdrum.”</p><p>Penny sighs. “Doesn’t this fascinate you?”</p><p>“No,” I say at the same time that Baz says, “yes.”</p><p>Of course, he would think that. Baz is interested in anything and everything evil.</p><p>“It doesn’t fascinate me because that would mean that I’m taking the magic from everyone, destroying everything.”</p><p>“Simon, it’s not your fault,” she repeats.</p><p>“I don’t want to think about this anymore. Can we please just go back to talking about vampires?”</p><p>Baz makes a face, but he does do what I ask, turning back to Penny and the board, continuing the conversation that they were having before the Humdrum was brought up.</p><p>I ignore the rest of their conversation, and not too long after that, Baz leaves, looking exhausted and taking some of the food he retrieved with him. It doesn’t appear that he will be returning any time soon.</p><p>Penny stays for a while longer, eating with me and trying to strike up another conversation about how I shared my magic with Baz earlier, but I mostly ignore her.</p><p>I don’t want to talk anymore right now. Today has been too much, and I really just want to crawl into bed and forget about all of it.</p><p>By the time Penny leaves for the night, I’m pretty sure we have more questions than answers about everything.</p><p>***</p><p>When Baz returns to our room later that night, I’m already in bed, but I’m not asleep.</p><p>I don’t sleep well most nights, and I find it even harder to fall asleep when Baz isn’t there in the room with me, the sound of his quiet breathing making me feel less alone.</p><p>I tell myself that it doesn’t mean anything. It isn’t <em> Baz </em> who helps me sleep. It’s just the presence of another human being – if you can call him that – that reminds me as I lie awake in the darkness that I’m not trapped in that room anymore. I’m not going to be alone for the rest of whatever life I may have left. I’m safe.</p><p>I never thought that I would feel safe sleeping in a room with Baz but sleeping with a vampire is a lot less scary than sleeping alone.</p><p>I listen to Baz move around the room before shutting himself in the bathroom, and I know that I should leave him alone for the night, but I can’t stop thinking about what happened when we were fighting the dragon.</p><p>I had no idea that it was possible for me to share some of my magic with him. I wonder if I could do it again.</p><p>I hear him coming out of the bathroom and sit up in bed.</p><p>“Baz?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Could you come here a moment?”</p><p>He hesitates at the end of his own bed, looking at me warily. “What for?”</p><p>“Just come here. I want to try something.”</p><p>He frowns. “Do you even hear yourself?”</p><p>I roll my eyes and stand up. If he won’t come to me, I’ll go to him.</p><p>“You can’t sit on my bed,” he says as I sit on it.</p><p>“Here.” I hold out my hand.</p><p>“What do you want from me?” He asks.</p><p>“Nothing. I just want to try again. Sharing magic.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“To make sure it wasn’t a fluke.”</p><p>He shakes his head. “Fine.”</p><p>“Aren’t you worried that I’ll hurt you?” I ask, unsure why I’m giving him a reason to change his mind. I’m curious, though.</p><p>“You didn’t before.”</p><p>“And you trust me?”</p><p>He stares at me for a long moment before finally saying, “I trust the truce. We swore not to hurt each other.”</p><p>“Right. Okay.” I take a deep, shaky breath. I can’t believe we’re going to do this. “Give me your hands.”</p><p>“I—.” He hesitates, so I just reach out and take his hands in mine.</p><p>“Cast a spell.” I’m not sure why I’m whispering, but when Baz answers, he is, too.</p><p>“What kind of spell?”</p><p>I shrug. “Any,” I tell him, realizing that in saying that I’m giving him my trust. I’m trusting him not to use my own magic against me.</p><p>As he thinks it over, I close my eyes and imagine opening myself up to him and accessing my magic, which comes readily. Then, I imagine pushing it forward, allowing it to flow from me to him.</p><p>“Is this okay?” I ask.</p><p>“Grand,” he replies. Then, he starts to cast a spell. <b> <em>“Twinkle, twinkle little star!”</em> </b></p><p>I open my eyes and watch as he continues the spell. The room fades around us, and we’re in space.</p><p>I mean, I don’t think we’re actually in space, but it looks a lot like it. Like we’re just floating around the stars.</p><p>I wonder that would be like. To live amongst the stars. To be the light in the darkness for so many people.</p><p>I want that. It sure beats this feeling that consumes me most of the time now.</p><p>For once, I feel free. There’s so much open space and living here would mean never feeling trapped again. But I would be alone, and I don’t want that.</p><p>“Are you holding back at all?” Baz asks, pulling my thoughts back to reality.</p><p>“Not really. Is it too much?”</p><p>He shakes his head. “No. It’s like you completed the circuit.”</p><p>He looks around at the stars and giggles, and it’s a nice sound. It does a weird thing to my stomach, creating a weird fluttering feeling, and I have to look away from him.</p><p>“Do you want me to pull back?” I ask even though I’m not sure I want to.</p><p>For the first time since before I was eleven, I don’t feel like I’m overflowing with magic. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? Like the magic is just sitting there waiting for you call on it?</p><p>It feels good, but it can’t last, so even though Baz says no, I pull back anyway. Pulling my magic back is like a rubber band snapping, cutting the connection between Baz and me.</p><p>It doesn’t cut all connections between us, though, because I’m still sitting on his bed and still holding his hands. I know I should let go, but I can’t because I’ve never felt connected to anyone like this. I know I shouldn’t feel like this with my nemesis, but I don’t care because I like the feeling.</p><p>I tell Baz to see if it works the other way, if he can take my magic from me, but he can’t. That’s probably a good thing, which is what Baz thinks, too.</p><p>“Can you imagine? We’d tear each other apart.”</p><p>“We’re already tearing each other apart,” I point out.</p><p>But what if we weren’t? I wonder. If Baz and I could figure out how to work together, sharing my magic, we would be a force to be reckoned with. We could stop the Humdrum the way we stopped the dragon. If only we could go five minutes without fighting.</p><p>In order to do that, though, there has to be honesty between us.</p><p>“Baz,” I say gently. “If we’re going to keep working together, we have to stop pretending like I don’t know the truth.”</p><p>“Truth about what?” He says, yanking his hands back.</p><p>I want to reach for him again, but that would be stupid.</p><p>“About you. About what you are.”</p><p>“Get off my bed,” he says, his expression turning steely.</p><p>“It doesn’t change anything.”</p><p>“Doesn’t it?”</p><p>“Well, it makes it hard to discuss vampires when you won’t admit that you are one.”</p><p>“<em> Get off my bed </em>,” he hisses, and it’s the most emotion I’ve seen from him since I returned to Watford.</p><p>“Come on. I don’t care that you’re a vampire. I just want you to admit it. Don’t you think it’s relevant to this investigation?”</p><p>He glares at me, but his voice is calm when he speaks again.</p><p>“I’m done with you today. It feels like I’ve been struck by lightning twice today, and I’m done now.” With that, he turns away from me, so I sit down on my own bed and squeeze my eyes shut.</p><p>His words sting more than they should. I didn’t want to upset him. I just want him to know that it doesn’t matter to me that he’s a vampire.</p><p>I hate that he’s going to bed angry at me, and I wish I could sneak out to the woods. I need some air. I need—. I’m not sure what I need actually.</p><p>I hate this. I hate not knowing what this feeling is, and I hate feeling like the worlds is ending just because Baz is mad at me. What <em> is </em> that? Why do I care so much all of a sudden?</p><p>“Crowley, Snow,” Baz hisses.</p><p>I open my eyes, but things are blurry—hazy. So much for my magic not feeling like too much.</p><p>“Damn it.”</p><p>I expect Baz to be annoyed, but his voice is almost kind when he says, “breathe, Snow. Just breathe. It’s fine.”</p><p>Is it, though? Because nothing feels fine anymore.</p><p>I don’t say that aloud. I just do what he said and breathe until I feel calm enough to sleep, wondering why Baz gets me so worked up so easily.</p><p>***</p><p>Over the next few days, we don’t come up with any more information than we already had. Fortunately, neither Penny nor Baz brings up the Humdrum again. I have decided to just forget about the whole thing because they’re probably wrong.</p><p>But I am beginning to wonder if this whole thing is hopeless.</p><p>If the two smartest people in our class can’t figure out who Nicodemus is or why anyone would want to kill Baz’s mother, who can?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading!! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Agatha says goodbye to Simon before leaving Watford for good.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yesterday, I kept feeling like I was forgetting to do something, but I just thought it was homework or something. Then, while I was at work this morning, I finally realized that I forgot to update this fic, so here I am once again posting on Thursday because Wednesdays are weird lol</p>
<p>I'll be posting 2 chapters today because they're both a little shorter than the rest. The next chapter will be up as soon as I get it edited.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Agatha</strong>
</p>
<p>There are a couple of more days before Christmas, but it is time for me to leave Watford.</p>
<p>I’m packing up all of my things, and I’m going to leave this afternoon and go to… Well, I’m not actually sure where I’m going.</p>
<p>For now, I am going home. I will stay with my parents until after Christmas, then I’ll tell them that I’m planning to head back to Watford early. After that, I’ll just catch a bus or a train or a plane to somewhere, anywhere, and just see where I end up.</p>
<p>I hate that I’m going to lie to my parents, but if I tell them the truth, they won’t understand. They’ll try to talk me out of it. And I cannot stay here any longer.</p>
<p>I want to live the life of a Normal. A life where I don’t have to worry about my now-ex boyfriend perishing in a grand fight against the Insidious Humdrum.</p>
<p>Why would <em>anyone</em> want to stay here for that?</p>
<p>I find it hard to believe that Simon wants to stay, but maybe he feels like he doesn’t have a choice. He thinks he has to stay here, even if he dies because of it.</p>
<p>I felt that way for a long time, like I didn’t have a choice, but from now on, I am going to start making my own choices.</p>
<p>But first, I’m going to tell Simon where I’m going.</p>
<p>I was prepared to leave with no explanation, but I feel like I owe at least Simon an explanation. I don’t want him to end up feeling guilty or blaming himself because he dumped me. I want to make sure that he knows this isn’t his fault.</p>
<p>I made up my mind about this a long time ago.</p>
<p>I catch up with him after classes, just before I’m planning to leave.</p>
<p>“Simon,” I call, and he turns to me with an uncertain smile. “I need to tell you something,” I say as I walk over to him.</p>
<p>His smile slips away. “Is something wrong?”</p>
<p>“No. Nothing is wrong,” I assure him. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving.”</p>
<p>“Leaving? Where are you going?”</p>
<p>“Home. For now. But I’m not coming back to school.”</p>
<p>“Where will you go?”</p>
<p>“I’m not sure yet. I just don’t want to be here anymore. Around the fighting and the wars and all the near-death experiences.”</p>
<p>“Oh.”</p>
<p>I give him a moment to work through all of this. I know that it’s a lot to take in and that it probably seems pretty sudden, so I wait patiently for him to respond.</p>
<p>“Are you sure?” He asks.</p>
<p>“Yes. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. I just wanted to let you know. I didn’t want to disappear and leave you here worrying about me because I’ll be fine. Hopefully even better than fine. I will be safe.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” he says slowly. “Th-thanks for telling me.”</p>
<p>“You won’t stop me?”</p>
<p>“Do you want me to?” He asks, his expression soft.</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Okay, then.” He pulls me into his arms suddenly, hugging me tightly.</p>
<p>I carefully hug him back, then he releases me.</p>
<p>“One more thing,” I say.</p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>“I don’t think you should come for Christmas. I’m sorry, but I think it will be easier that way.”</p>
<p>He shakes his head. “You don’t have to apologize. I understand. I was thinking about staying here anyway.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure?” I ask, and he nods. “Alright. Well, I guess this is it then. “Goodbye, Simon.” I smile at him and give him a small wave as I start to walk away.</p>
<p>“Goodbye, Agatha.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>I have barely been back for a month and a half, and it’s time to leave again. Not that I have anywhere to go.</p>
<p>Agatha left, and Penny’s mother doesn’t want me at her house. She doesn’t trust me apparently. She thinks that I will report everything I see and hear at their house to the Mage.</p>
<p>I would never do that, but I can understand why she might be concerned.</p>
<p>I’m still a little disappointed, though. I mean, it’s the holidays, y’know? But this just means that I will have plenty of time to do more research on the death of Baz’s mother. And it will give me a few extra weeks of being here at Watford.</p>
<p>That doesn’t mean it’s easy to sit and watch everything that’s happening around me. People are packing and hugging each other goodbye and just looking all around cheerful while I watch it all from the side.</p>
<p>Everyone around me is leaving, but I’m going to stay. The being here alone part is the thing that is going to be the problem, but I know I’ll be fine. I will have all of this space to explore and a break from the classes that I’m struggling to get through.</p>
<p>It will be a chance to rest without having to worry too much about anything.</p>
<p>I pretend not to watch Baz from my desk chair as he neatly packs his things away into his leather trunk.</p>
<p>He has put all of our research and notes in there. He doesn’t want to bring it up with his parents like Penny and I thought he should, but he’s going to try to find out more information if he can.</p>
<p>“When are you heading out?” He asks me over his shoulder. “I haven’t seen Wellbelove recently. Did she already leave? Without you?”</p>
<p>I grit my teeth because I hate when he brings up Agatha, but I’m more thrown off by the way he sounds so conversational. He’s just so casual about it even though he has to know that she and I broke up.</p>
<p>“I’m staying here. I’ll try to see if maybe we missed something in the library.”</p>
<p>“You should come to Hampshire,” he says in a way that you might tell someone what’s for dinner.</p>
<p>“With you?” I ask. “<em>Why?</em>”</p>
<p>“Because you promised to help me,” he says, turning to face me.</p>
<p>“I just told you that I was going to keep searching.”</p>
<p>“We’ve been through all of the books here. You would be more useful helping me go through the books in my library at home.”</p>
<p>“You really want me to come home with you?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“For Christmas?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” he repeats, almost sounding exasperated, but not quite.</p>
<p>“With your family? Your scary family that wants to kill me?”</p>
<p>He rolls his eyes. He does that a lot when we talk, and I was surprised to realize that I find some comfort in it because it means that he doesn’t really feel indifferent about me.</p>
<p>“They won’t hurt you. I won’t let them.”</p>
<p>I scoff. “You’re mad.”</p>
<p>“Why? I thought you might like the company. You can’t honestly want to spend all of break alone.”</p>
<p>“It’s better than being surrounded by people who want to kill me.”</p>
<p>“I already said that they wouldn’t. You’ll be our guest. I’ll even cast the spell.”</p>
<p>“You’re mad!” I repeat, jumping up from my chair, causing it to fall backward and hit the wall of our cramped room.</p>
<p>He turns away from me and slams his trunk and latches it. Slowly, I’ve been able to get a rise out of him. He apparently couldn’t resist it any longer after we began spending most of our days working together.</p>
<p>“Why is it so mad? You’ll have your own room, and the house is big enough that you won’t even have to see my family if you don’t want to.”</p>
<p>“Why are you pushing this so hard?” I counter. “You should be happy to get away from me instead of pushing to spend more time with me.”</p>
<p>“I was just trying to be nice. If I were in your position, I would want to be around people, not alone. Even if I hate those people.”</p>
<p>“I don’t hate you,” I whisper, and I’m not sure why I say it, but I realize that he’s true.</p>
<p>“What?” Baz asks, his whole body going still.</p>
<p>I shake my head. “Nothing. I just don’t want to go.”</p>
<p>“Fine. Be alone. What do I care?”</p>
<p>Baz storms out of the room with his trunk, slamming the door and leaving me in a confused silence.</p>
<p>Why is he so angry? He doesn’t even like me, so why is he trying to be nice?</p>
<p>I was tempted to accept his offer, especially when he mentioned that I wouldn’t be alone, but I couldn’t do it.</p>
<p>As much as I hate the idea of being alone, I hate the idea of being someplace where I’ll be constantly afraid that someone might kill me in my sleep even more.</p>
<p>Baz might not. He’s been acting strangely nice recently. It was like he could see right into me, see exactly what I needed, but I don’t understand why he wasn’t trying to exploit that, to use it against me.</p>
<p>Baz and I aren’t friends, so why would he invite me over for Christmas?</p>
<p>I am content to stay at Watford. I can try to get some rest so that maybe I will actually be able to concentrate during classes when the break is over.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading!! :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon visits Baz at his home to tell him what he's found out about Nicodemus.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p>
<p>I’m half-heartedly playing the violin, working on a Kishi Bashi song, trying to use the music as a distraction from worrying about what might happen while Simon is at Watford alone. Surely, he won’t be kidnapped from the school, but what if he’s stupid enough to venture out on his own again and whoever – or whatever – took him tries to take him again?</p>
<p>I never should have left him alone. I should have insisted that he come home with me.</p>
<p>He wouldn’t have listened, though.</p>
<p>I mess up the song and start again.</p>
<p>I came into the library telling myself that I needed more practice and that I absolutely would not think about Snow, but that’s obviously not working. Really, I came in her to just be alone with my thoughts. My siblings aren’t allowed in here yet, so it’s a great place to go to just get away. Plus, it has a great view of the gardens, even if everything out there is currently dead and buried under the snow.</p>
<p>I close my eyes and allow myself to feel the music, the notes filling the room and clearing my mind. It relaxes me, and I don’t even hear Vera come in until she has said my name several times.</p>
<p>“Basilton… <em>Mr. Pitch</em>.”</p>
<p>Her voice startles me, but I don’t let it show as I open my eyes and drop the violin from my chin, turning to face her.</p>
<p>“I apologize for the intrusion,” she says from the doorway, “but your friend is here to see you.”</p>
<p>I frown. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”</p>
<p>“He’s wearing your school uniform. I thought he might be one of your friends.”</p>
<p>My frown deepens as I set aside the violin and stand, moving towards the door.</p>
<p>It could be Niall. But he would have texted first, and he wouldn’t be wearing the uniform. No one would willingly wear that during break.</p>
<p>My pace is too quick as I hurry through the parlor and dining room, and it’s enough to draw Daphne’s attention away from her laptop where she sits at the kitchen table, so I force myself to slow down.</p>
<p>I stop short at the entrance to the foyer, stunned by who is standing there, dripping mud and snow all over the expensive, ornate rug.</p>
<p>As though I dreamt him into existence, Simon Snow is standing there, looking like a lost dog. A very wet one.</p>
<p>He is indeed in uniform, which causes a pang in my chest at the reminder that he likely has nothing else to wear.</p>
<p>I push my hands into my pockets and act calmer than I feel, trying not to give away the fact that my heart is racing in my chest.</p>
<p>“Snow,” I say, and he jerks his head up, looking slightly less lost as he meets my eyes.</p>
<p>“<em>Baz</em>.”</p>
<p>“What business could you possibly have at my house?” I ask, trying not to think too hard about how he looks a lot like the way he did when he finally returned to Watford.</p>
<p>“<em>Baz</em>…” He repeats my name, and I hate how much I like the sound of it. “You’re – you’re wearing jeans.”</p>
<p>I tilt my head at him. “I am. Did you happen to hit your head as you came here? Perhaps take a tumble and get yourself covered in half the countryside?”</p>
<p>“I walked from the road.” That explains why he looks the way he does, but it doesn’t explain why he’s still staring at my jeans.</p>
<p>I wonder if I should have Vera check him out, make sure he’s physically alright.</p>
<p>I chew the inside of my cheek as I try to figure out what to do with him. I could turn him away, but I’m afraid if I do that, I may never see him again. And I’m just not ready to say goodbye. I still have the rest of eighth year with him, and I want to make the most of it.</p>
<p>“You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”</p>
<p>“Oh, uh, I came to talk to you.”</p>
<p>I curse my heart for the way it skips a beat. He absolutely did not mean it like that.</p>
<p>“Alright,” I say with a nod. “But you can’t come into the house like that. Daphne would kill you.”</p>
<p>He flinches slightly, and I feel guilty for my poor choice of words. He’s obviously uncomfortable here, and I’m not making it any better.</p>
<p>I sigh. “You’ll be fine. Let’s just get you cleaned up.”</p>
<p>I slip my wand out of my sleeve, ignoring the way he goes still, and cast <strong><em>“Clean as a whistle!”</em></strong> on him.</p>
<p>He removes his coat, and I instruct him to remove his boots as well. Then, I feel my face warm with all the blood I have in me as I stare at Simon bloody Snow standing in my foyer in red-stockinged feet.</p>
<p>“Come on, Snow,” I say, quickly turning away from him.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>After quickly introducing him to my stepmum, I lead him up the stairs to my room, and I swear I hear him mumble something about my jeans, but I choose to ignore him.</p>
<p>Once we’re in my room, Simon tells me about how he talked to Ebb, the goatherd.</p>
<p>She apparently has a brother no one has ever heard of who just happens to be named Nicodemus and supposedly became a vampire voluntarily.</p>
<p>I am immediately skeptical. No one would willingly become a vampire, especially not a mage.</p>
<p>But Simon insists that it’s the truth. And when I find out he came straight here, I have to believe that he at least believes he’s telling me the truth. Why else would he go through all of this trouble?</p>
<p>Mordelia barges into my room to call us for dinner before I can make sense of any of it, and then Simon tries to leave, head back to Watford, but I won’t let him.</p>
<p>“You can’t leave now,” I tell him.</p>
<p>“Why not?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Because I’m afraid of losing you.</em>
</p>
<p>“Because you’d likely perish in the snow if you attempted to trek all the way back to Watford, and I simply cannot have that on my conscience.”</p>
<p>“Well, I’m not going to stay <em>here</em>.”</p>
<p>“Why not? You haven’t been harmed yet.”</p>
<p>He starts to protest, but I cut him off.</p>
<p>“You’re staying.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>Who knew that eating dinner could be so stressful?</p>
<p>I’m not sure I could have named even half of the things that were being served, and I felt like I was being watched the entire time. Not just by Baz and his family, but also by the statues adorning shelves and the people sitting in portraits on the walls. It felt like dozens of pairs of eyes followed my every move.</p>
<p>I only let that bother me for a little bit, though, before I began scarfing down the food. I wasn’t even worried about whether Baz’s stepmum or their cook or whoever made the food had poisoned it, even though I should have been at least a little wary since none of the Old Families exactly like me.</p>
<p>I enjoy the food more than I have enjoyed any meal in a while, and it makes me realize just how many meals I have skipped recently.</p>
<p>Baz barely touches his own food, but he waits patiently as I eat three platefuls, feeling full for the first time since probably the end of seventh year.</p>
<p>After dinner, Baz leads me to the library where he searches the books for any mention of Nicodemus using the <strong><em>“Fine-tooth comb”</em></strong> spell. It doesn’t yield any results.</p>
<p>“Have you tried asking your parents?” I ask.</p>
<p>“Asking them what exactly?” He asks, raising that irritating brow of his.</p>
<p>“If they remember Nicodemus. Maybe they’ll know what happened to him.”</p>
<p>“Tight. Because I can just go ask them about the only mage ever to run off with the vampires. Yeah, I’m sure that will go over real well.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” I say quietly. “I didn’t think about it like that.”</p>
<p>“Of course not, because you don’t think.” His words are almost like a slap to the face, but I force myself not to react.</p>
<p>“Wait,” he says suddenly.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“I know someone who might know.”</p>
<p>“Who?”</p>
<p>“My aunt.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p>
<p>I take off out of the library without explaining it to Simon, not really caring whether he decides to follow me or not. (He does.)</p>
<p>I lead him up the stairs and down the hall to my aunt’s room. I don’t even bother trying the doorknob because I can already feel the wardings she put on it. I cast a few spells to disarm them as Simon watches me.</p>
<p>“What are we doing?” He asks.</p>
<p>“Looking for Nicodemus.” I cast another spell then try the knob. The door opens easily.</p>
<p>“You think he might be in this room?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>He sighs, obviously annoyed by how little information I’m giving him.</p>
<p>“Then, why are we in here?”</p>
<p>I move into the room and crouch down in front of the only bookshelf in there and began scanning the spines.</p>
<p>“I’m looking for…<em>aha</em>.” I pull out a book from the shelf and stand. On the front, in gold lettering are the words <em>Remember the Magic</em>.</p>
<p>It’s an old memory book. They used to give them out at the end of every year. That was before the Mage took over.</p>
<p>I start flipping through the book, past pages of photos and memories. I find what I’m looking for towards the back. It’s a class picture. I’m looking over it, searching for anyone I might recognize, like my aunt or the goatherd, when Simon points at something lower on the page.</p>
<p>“look.”</p>
<p>I drop my gaze down to the photo he’s pointing at. It’s of my aunt sitting under a yew tree, her arm slung around the shoulders of someone who looks suspiciously like--.”</p>
<p>“Ebb,” Simon says, finishing my thought.</p>
<p>I was right. My aunt does know Nicodemus, which means she probably knows more about my situation than she has let on. She already knew a mage who was Turned. How come she never said anything to me?</p>
<p>“<em>Fiona!</em>” I hiss, slamming the book shut.</p>
<p>Simon takes the book from me, but I ignore him.</p>
<p>I have to talk to Fiona. But it’s too late to visit her tonight. It will have to wait until tomorrow morning.</p>
<p>“Did you know there used to be a drama society at Watford?” Simon asks, breaking through my thoughts. He’s looking at a page in the book.</p>
<p>“There used to be a lot of things before the Mage took over,” I say, not bothering to hide the bitterness in my tone.</p>
<p>I take the book from him and replace it on the shelf.</p>
<p>“Let’s go.”</p>
<p>“Where?”</p>
<p>“Tonight? Bed. Tomorrow? London.”</p>
<p>He looks at me skeptically but follows me out of the room anyway.</p>
<p>Before taking Simon to his room for the night, I give him a quick tour of the house, pointing out all the doors that lead outside.</p>
<p>It hasn’t escaped my notice how much time he has been spending outside since he returned to Watford, and I want to make sure he’s comfortable here.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I can't believe we're getting so close to the end of this fic. I'm not ready to let it go yet lol</p>
<p>This is where things really get rolling, so if you happen to be reading this as a completed fic, this is a good place to take a break. Get up and stretch, drink some water, eat something if you haven't in a while, and if it's late, go to bed. This fic will still be here in the morning.</p>
<p>Alright, here we go. Enjoy everyone!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>I’m pretty sure this room is haunted. There’s something under the bed, and it starts making noise every time that I just start to fall asleep.</p>
<p>I can’t stay here. I spent months sleeping in a room I didn’t want to be in, and I’m not going to let that happen anymore.</p>
<p>I head down the hall to Baz’s room, but I can hardly catch my breath. My chest feels tight, and I swear the hallway is shrinking.</p>
<p>I have to get out of here.</p>
<p>I go down the stairs as quickly as I can without the fear of waking someone up.</p>
<p>I’ll talk to Baz later. Right now, I just need to get outside, to get some fresh air.</p>
<p>I rush through the kitchen and out the French doors that Baz pointed out earlier. They lead out to the patio which looks out on the extravagant vegetable garden, likely what’s left of Baz’s father’s farmer roots. Most of the plants are dead now, but I’m sure they’re beautiful in the springtime.</p>
<p>I take in a deep breath of the freezing air and start to count to ten, hoping it will help calm me down, the way people told me to do when they feared I would go off.</p>
<p>It never helped then, so I don’t know why I try it now. I guess I’m just looking for anything that might make the tightness in my chest go away.</p>
<p>There’s a swinging bench to my left, and I take a seat there as the frigid air fills my lungs. Slowly, slowly, my heartbeat starts to return to normal.</p>
<p>I hate that I keep feeling so awful, but I don’t know how to make it stop.</p>
<p>I wish everything would stop. Just for a moment. Just long enough for me to catch my breath and figure things out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p>
<p>After showing Simon to the guest room, I return to my own room and start preparing for bed.</p>
<p>I should probably go out and feed. I haven’t fed since yesterday morning, and I probably won’t get a chance to in the morning. Not with Simon around.</p>
<p>I slip on some shoes and a jacket, but as I pass by my window, I come up short as I catch sight of some movement outside.</p>
<p>Simon is sitting out on the patio, staring up at the night sky like he’ll find the answers to all of his questions up there.</p>
<p>Even from here, I can see how not himself he looks.</p>
<p>I should go check on him.</p>
<p>I probably won’t be able to convince him to come in out of the cold, but I can at least see if he’s alright.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>When I step out onto the back patio, I’m armed with a cup of steaming tea and a blanket I’ve cast a spell on to keep warm out here. I offer both items to Simon. He takes them both without a word, but I can see some of the tension leave his body as he wraps the blanket around himself and sips the tea.</p>
<p>I stand awkwardly to the side, not wanting to go back inside without him but not really sure whether I should stay here either.</p>
<p>“You can sit,” Simon says quietly, making my mind up for me.</p>
<p>I nod and sit gently down beside him, trying not to swing the bench too much. The last thing I need is to cause Simon to spill his tea on himself. He would accuse me of doing it on purpose, and I really don’t want to fight with him right now.</p>
<p>We sit together in silence, and I study him out of the corner of my eye.</p>
<p>His shoulders are slumped, and the corners of his mouth are pulled down in a perpetual frown. There are also dark bruises under his eyes, and I want to press my thumbs to them and whisper a spell to make them go away.</p>
<p>But my magic isn’t what he needs. He needs sleep. Which is exactly what I tell him.</p>
<p>“You should sleep.”</p>
<p>“I can’t.”</p>
<p>I want to ask him why not, but I think I already know. Whatever happened to him while he was missing is keeping him up at night.</p>
<p>But it goes deeper than that; I can tell. Something is bothering him, and it can’t be good for him to keep it bottled up like this. (I probably know that better than most.)</p>
<p>We lapse back into silence, and snow begins to fall in large flakes as I search for a way to ask him what’s wrong – what’s <em>really</em> wrong.</p>
<p>I start to grow cold and wish I’d brought out a blanket for myself.</p>
<p>I whisper a spell, and a fire starts to burn in the palm of my hand. It isn’t much, but it helps stop my shivering.</p>
<p>A moment later, I feel Simon’s arm come around me, and I go very still. He quickly pulls his arm back, but he leaves part of the blanket wrapped around me.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, the blanket isn’t large enough to stretch around the both of us, so my only choices are to push the blanket off and be perceived as rude or to move closer to Simon.</p>
<p>Biting my lip, I scoot closer to him on the bench until there is less than an inch of space left between our legs. I also extinguish the flame because I don’t trust myself to be able to focus enough to control it with Simon this close to me.</p>
<p>We sit in silence for a little longer, and I’m surprised when Simon is the one who breaks it.</p>
<p>“I think your house is haunted.”</p>
<p>“What?” I ask, unable to mask my surprise at this sudden declaration.</p>
<p>“I heard something in the guest room. It kept moving around under the bed.”</p>
<p>“Oh. That was just a wraith,” I say calmly.</p>
<p>“<em>‘Just a wraith’</em>?” He asks incredulously. “Don’t they freak you out?”</p>
<p>“No. They’ve always been there. Plus, I’m pretty sure they’re more freaked out by me.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Is all he says to that.</p>
<p>I can tell he’s starting to shut down again, but this is my chance to talk to him.</p>
<p>“Snow, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”</p>
<p>“No, I will not be your human sacrifice.”</p>
<p>I look at him curiously, fighting back an amused smile, but I’m glad he seems a bit more like himself right now.</p>
<p>“Um, no. That wasn’t what I wanted to ask you.”</p>
<p>He shrugs. “Okay. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I don’t give you permission to sacrifice me to whatever demon you have living in your basement.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think I’d need your permission for that. Anyway, we don’t keep demons in our basement.” Well, there was that one time…but that’s not the point. Simon is clearly trying to distract me, but it won’t work.</p>
<p>“Snow.”</p>
<p>“Baz.”</p>
<p>I sigh. He isn’t going to make this easy. I just have to come out and say it.</p>
<p>“What happened to you? At the beginning of the year. When you were missing,” I clarify unnecessarily. Of course he knows what I’m talking about.</p>
<p>Simon doesn’t immediately reply, and when I look over at him, he’s nearly as pale as I am. His lips are pressed into a tight line, and that empty, hollow look is back in his eyes.</p>
<p>I wait patiently to see if he’ll respond, not wanting to push him too far. It takes him a few moments, but finally, he speaks.</p>
<p>“I was kidnapped. On my way back to school, someone took me.” His voice is emotionless, but as if a dam has broken, the words start spilling out of him.</p>
<p>“They kept me in a dark room with no windows. Most of the time, I didn’t know whether it was day or night.” He pauses. Then softer, he says, “I never thought I’d get out of there.”</p>
<p>I wish I had something comforting I could say to him. Something to take the edge off of the pain he’s so clearly feeling. But what do you say to someone who has gone through what he has?</p>
<p>I doubt he wants to talk more about what happened to him while he was there, so instead, I ask, “How did you escape?”</p>
<p>He shrugs. “One day, the door was open. I thought it was a trap, but somehow, I made it back to Watford. No one even tried to stop me.”</p>
<p>I frown at that. Why would someone kidnap him for months and then just let him go? It doesn’t make sense.</p>
<p>“Do you know who took you?”</p>
<p>He shakes his head.</p>
<p>“What did they look like?”</p>
<p>“I don’t remember. All I know is that they were Mages. They used a spell to knock me out and kept me in a deadzone so that I couldn’t use my magic to escape.”</p>
<p>“You were kidnapped by <em>mages</em>?” I ask, barely able to hide my outrage. Why would anyone want to take the Chosen One?</p>
<p>Simon doesn’t say anything.</p>
<p>“I was right,” I whisper to myself, but Simon hears it.</p>
<p>“Right about what?”</p>
<p>“I thought you were in a dead zone. When my spell didn’t work, I knew that had to be why.”</p>
<p>“What spell?”</p>
<p>Fuck. I hadn’t intended on telling him about all of that, but it’s too late now.</p>
<p>“A location spell. I looked everywhere for you, but I couldn’t find you. I’m sorry,” I add quietly.</p>
<p>“You were looking for me? Why?”</p>
<p>“I had to know you were safe.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>I can’t believe it. Baz searched for me.</p>
<p>Not even the Mage looked for me. But when I thought I was all alone, Baz was doing whatever he could to make sure that I was okay.</p>
<p>Perhaps stupidly, this makes me want to trust him. Makes me decide to tell him a little more.</p>
<p>“I’ve been feeling off ever since I returned,” I say, then before he can say something that might make me lose my nerve, I keep going. “I don’t know what it is. Just lately, it feels like there’s something wrong with me. L-like I’m broken or something. I don’t feel like myself, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t make things go back to normal.”</p>
<p>I pause briefly to take a breath, and I realize that my hands are shaking, but it’s not from the cold. I can’t believe I’m telling all of this to <em>Baz</em> of all people.</p>
<p>“Do you ever wish that everything would just stop sometimes? Like everything around you is moving too fast and you just want a moment to catch your breath?” I don’t give him enough time to actually answer. “I just want things to be okay. I don’t want to feel this way, like there’s no way to stop the pain. I just wish it would all go away.”</p>
<p>I choke back a sob and have to blink away the tears that have formed in my eyes. My whole body is trembling now, but I feel marginally better now that I’ve said all of that aloud.</p>
<p>I can’t look at Baz. I can only imagine what he must be thinking now that he knows how broken I am inside.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p>
<p>I’m not sure what to say to him.</p>
<p>‘I’m sorry’ won’t help anything. Not when he’s in this much pain. How long has he been keeping this in? Just since the kidnapping? Or has it been slowly building inside of him for years?</p>
<p>The worst part is that I can see part of myself in him. The dark feelings, the wishing everything would stop, the pain he doesn’t know how to end. It makes my whole body ache for him.</p>
<p>I know what it’s like to lose hope, to want to give up, and I wouldn’t wisht that on my worst enemy. And I especially wouldn’t wish it upon Simon.</p>
<p>I want to take that pain away from him. I want to tell him that everything will be fine, that things will get better, but I can’t.</p>
<p>I can’t promise him that, and I know how meaningless those words sound when you’re in this much pain anyway.</p>
<p>He doesn’t need the hope of something better to come. He needs something better right now.</p>
<p>Hesitantly, I reach out and place my hand over his, fully prepared for him to push me away, but he doesn’t. He placed his empty much on the ground a while ago, and now he uses his free hand to tug the blanket tighter around himself as he stares quietly up at the night sky, clouded over and still dropping snow.</p>
<p>I’m hoping that my presence is helping in some way even if I’m not exactly the person Simon probably wants by his side. (We are still rivals after all.)</p>
<p>I can’t just sit here, though. He trusted me enough to open up to me, and I have to say something.</p>
<p>“I get it,” I start. “Sometimes the world gets so bleak that you don’t know how to live in it.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see him turn to look at me, but I stare straight ahead as I continue talking.</p>
<p>“I can’t promise you that things will get better—no one can—but you have to believe—to <em>hope</em>—that one day, things will change for the better. Otherwise, the days are all dark with no light in sight. So, you just have to believe that something will come along to break through that darkness.”</p>
<p>I wish there was more I could say, that there was more I could do for him, but what Simon needs is time. Time to work through the pain. Time to heal.</p>
<p>I just hope we don’t run out of time.</p>
<p>We fall back into silence, and I worry that I’ve screwed things up. Said the wrong thing and made things worse.</p>
<p>I feel Simon’s hand move under mine, and I’m certain he’s pulling away from me, but then he turns it over and slots his fingers between mine.</p>
<p>I glance over at him and he’s watching me with tears streaming quietly down his face.</p>
<p>He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to.</p>
<p>“Oh, Simon,” I whisper.</p>
<p>I reach out to wipe away a falling tear, and I let my hand linger there, cradling Simon’s face.</p>
<p>I could kiss him right now. I want to, but I know it would make Simon feel worse, instead of better.</p>
<p>Feeling stupid, I start to pull my hand away, but he stops me.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>I’m not sure why, but I find Baz’s touch really comforting.</p>
<p>What a scene we must make right now. Two rivals sitting on a swinging bench as the snow swirls around them; one of them crying and the other awkwardly holding him.</p>
<p>I should be pushing him away, but all I want to do is hang on tightly, hang on to the one thing that feels right in my life right now.</p>
<p>I lean into him but stop when there are just a few inches between our faces.</p>
<p>
  <em>Is this really what I want?</em>
</p>
<p>I’m not completely sure, but it feels a lot like it did when we were in the Mage’s office together, and I want tonight to turn out differently.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p>
<p>He’s so close, and all I want is him to be closer.</p>
<p>I won’t do that to him, though. He has to make this move, decide whether it’s right for him. And I just have to hope that he isn’t making a mistake because of how bad he’s feeling.</p>
<p>He’s staring at my mouth, and I stay completely still, waiting to see what he’ll do next.</p>
<p>“Can I kiss you?” He asks, meeting my eyes.</p>
<p>Surprised, I nod.</p>
<p>Then, he kisses me.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p><em>Yes</em>. Yes, this is really what I want. I’m sure of it now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p>
<p>He kisses me, and I hold him gently, afraid to move too quickly, afraid that he’ll open his eyes and realize he’s made a mistake.</p>
<p>I never want to let go of him, though. I want to keep him safe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>I pull away from Baz briefly to meet his eyes again.</p>
<p>There are so many feelings in his expression that I can’t quite name them all, but it’s the most open that I’ve ever seen him. It makes me feel close to him, both physically and emotionally.</p>
<p>I hate that he has felt some of this same pain that I am. But horribly, I’m almost glad, because it means that we match.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p>
<p>I’m not sure I’m doing this right.</p>
<p>Simon’s mouth is surprisingly hot, a stark contrast to the cold of the air around us, and it’s a welcome warmth.</p>
<p>I’m not sure if this is a good kiss or not, but it <em>feels</em> good. It feels right.</p>
<p>I hope he thinks so, too.</p>
<p>I know this kiss won’t fix everything, but I’m hoping that maybe, just maybe, it makes things seem a little brighter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Simon</strong>
</p>
<p>As our lips move together, I find myself wondering if this is the something better Baz was talking about before?</p>
<p>Is <em>Baz</em> the something better?</p>
<p>I doubt this is what he meant, but I wouldn’t mind if it was. Which should surprise me, but for some reason, it doesn’t. Even though I spent so long convincing myself that I hated him, I realize I don’t hate him. I don’t think I ever really did. I just <em>wanted</em> to hate him because of the way he acted.</p>
<p>Now, I just want to take away his pain, the way he’s taking away some of mine right now.</p>
<p>This may not be the something better he was talking about, but it’s definitely bringing a bit of light into this darkness.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you think &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!! &lt;3 I would love to hear what you all think so far :)</p><p>For now, I'm going to be updating every Friday because due to a whole mix of things, I have been unable to write much the past couple of months, so even though I really wanted to have this fic completely finished by now, I've only got a little more than half done. I don't want to rush it and want to give myself time to work on it, which is why I'm only updating once a week.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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